You're Never Fully Dressed (Without A Smile)
by elektra30
Summary: Kurt had dreamed of being on Broadway, of opening a wildly successful fashion line and being happily married to a suave, charming and dutiful man with kids of their own. Now that he's met Blaine Anderson, a music therapist at the Lima Autism Center, he thinks one-third of his dreams is about to come true. That is, until Blaine brings home an orphaned autistic child one day. AU.
1. Prologue

**Title: **You're Never Fully Dressed (Without A Smile)

**Characters: **Kurt Hummel & Blaine Anderson, with guest appearances by Tina, Mercedes, Santana, Mike, Quinn, Sugar, Artie, Burt and many more...

**Warnings: **Language, lots of quarreling and angst.

**Note #1:** This story is a **spin-off** of the minor Kurt/Blaine storyline in the **Singin' In The Rain** verse that I created with an Artie/Tina fic for **gleebigbang**. You do not have to read the earlier story to understand this fic, but it might give a little insight to the other characters as well as the condition of autism.

**Note #2: **This fic involves **a fictitious autism center** which does **not** represent the work of many centers worldwide in any way, but seeks more to give an insight into autism and its management. I volunteered at an autism school for half a year and have imbued many of my personal observations into this fic. Many of the cases here are modeled after real-life examples. However, I do not claim to be an expert in the area and welcome constructive feedback on anything that might be inaccurate. It's also unbeta-ed, so I apologize in advance for any errors.

**Disclaimer: **The GLEE characters (and sly canon parallels) are the property of FOX, RIB and GLEE. Lyrics interspersed with text are written by Martin Charnin, from the musical _Annie_ inspired by the Harold Gray comic strip and book by Thomas Meehan. Also, as autism is a very wide spectrum, the behaviors mentioned may not be representative of the condition as a whole.

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

"What did you want to be when you were young?"

Kurt drums his fingers on the table, his eyes darting all around the dimly-lit café where the only other occupants are a skinny chain-smoking goth girl and a tattooed barista. "What makes you sure it's not what I'm doing now?"

The young man before him is completely relaxed in comparison as he leans back, his collar popped open and bowtie hanging lopsided and loose around. "You speak with the drive of someone who dreams with no confines."

"And you speak like an 18th century scholar sitting in a salon planning a revolution."

"Scholars don't plan revolutions. They're too stuck being skeptics. Their words are inspirations for the dreamers to plan revolutions," says the man, and downs the last of his coffee with a grin.

"No, sorry, this dreamer is more interested in earning a ticket to New York City to belt out 'Defying Gravity' than to tackle the French monarchy with a stirring rendition of 'Do You Hear The People Sing'."

The handsome fellow nods, relinquishing his scholarly accent and casually commenting, "I think I got the 'drive' part correct."

Kurt can't resist smirking. "I thought you teach music to kids at the Autism Center, not perform psychology experiments on them."

"Well, my major was in psychology. I am a therapist, first and foremost. Music is just one of my means to reach out to the children."

"Why children though? They –" Kurt unconsciously wrinkles up his nose.

"You don't like them?"

Kurt feels a hot flush spread up his neck instantly. He's not quite sure why he's discussing _children_, of all things, with a man he has only met hours before.

"Sorry," the man realizes, "overstepped, didn't I?"

"No, no, not at all," says Kurt, fervently wishing the flush would leave his face. "I envy children's innocence, I respect their sense of wonder and I adore looking at little baby clothes designs. But sorry to say, I'm not very patient with them."

"Not many people are!" The gentleman before him proceeds to take a paper napkin to dab at the edges of his lips. "Well, you're a lot more patient than you give yourself credit for."

Kurt rolls his eyes. "Yeah, tell me about it. I just sat through a contemporary play put up by a bunch of kids who have suffered their way through Lima's conservative community theater program–"

"Which no doubt, is a sore point because... you were probably in that program once."

" –had to deal with an autistic man who literally spoilt the show with a complete lack of theater etiquette–"

"Though you secretly cheered because everything he commented loudly about the play was actually true and you were glad everybody else heard it."

" –and now, having dumped my best friend at home and instead used the time I could have spent lounging on the couch with her to spend time sitting here in a really shady café that shouldn't be open at this hour, talking to a man who I just met a few hours ago and eats a chunk of grilled chicken and drinks coffee at night for leisure... I mean, who does that? And –"

Kurt stops talking because the man is leaning across the table, his hand snaking along to cover Kurt's. "And you're already thinking about choosing the location for the next date, despite this conversational partner having reminded you of all these things that irk you."

Kurt can feel his cheeks burn hotter than ever. Then, a sudden boldness seizes him, and he flips the man's hand around.

"Well then, Mr. Blaine Anderson," he says, a smirk growing on his face. "Will you continue to remind me of these things again?"

* * *

_A/N: For those interested, the play referenced here took place in Chapter Two of my other fic Singin' In The Rain._


	2. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE**

_Two years later_

The moment Kurt steps into his apartment, a whiff of garlic hits him.

"Are you doing aglio olio again?" he calls out, as he hangs his coat neatly on the rack. "I'm pretty sure we had an agreement about the quota of chili for the week!"

"I might have surpassed it a little," admits Blaine, as he walks out of the kitchen in his favorite ridiculously frilly apron with a picture of Ariel and Flounder in front. Kurt always has to suppress a snort every time he sees it. "But I promise you the level of spiciness here means to add a layer to the taste of the chicken and mushrooms." He holds up his hands innocently. "I _swear_."

"That's what you said about the Thai food on Monday."

"It's _Thursday_, Kurt. Can we limit the quota to four days?"

"I'm doing the cooking tomorrow!" Kurt points a mocking finger at Blaine, who pouts immediately. "And it's all going to be salad and feta cheese."

"Ugh, your attempts to dissuade me off chili and meat is both perplexing and pathetic all at once."

"Remind me why I started dating you when all you do is burn my tongue and put calories on me."

"It's healthy food, Kurt."

"There's chili in it. And chicken. Pasta also spells c-a-r-b-s."

"You like chicken. And you're getting way too bony."

"I – "

"_Grilled_ chicken, Kurt. I can't say much about the pasta, but _grilled_ chicken. It was what we had on our first date, remember?"

"That seedy café you brought me to? That just reminds me of your sincerity."

"Well, you willingly came along. If you had hated it that much, you wouldn't have gone on a second date with me. Once again, I repeat, _grilled_ chicken. Do you smell it?"

"Damn you," says Kurt, and he finally crosses over to give Blaine a soft kiss on the lips. "You are the only person in the world who can make me feel exhilarated at having arguments at this age."

"This is called banter," says Blaine, promptly. "And twenty-eight is the new eighteen, not seventy."

"Ha," says Kurt. "Pretty sure cranky knees don't go with teenagers."

"Cranky attitudes do." Blaine relinquishes his hold on the pan, takes the briefcase from Kurt, sets it aside, then pulls Kurt back into the kitchen where he continues to stir his chicken and mushroom mix. "So how's work? Did Kewell – Boss From Hell, up his asshole factor today? He keeps topping himself."

Kurt lets out an exasperated noise. "I'd make a horrible dirty pun out of that, but unfortunately, it's just the usual '_Kurt, I don't like the way you draw your curves, I need my ladies to have straight lines!'_ and_'Kurt, those colors are like Heaven and Hell! How could you –_" Well kind sir, that describes both of us!"

Blaine laughs. "I hope you didn't really say that."

"Geez, I hope one day I really have the guts to say it. Probably start wrecking the signboard and vandalizing my name over his. Levington & Hummel's has a nicer ring than Levington & Kewell's, _any day_."

"That's right, young man," says Blaine, as he strains the pasta from the cold water. "I'm looking forward to your new collection – from those prototypes you let me see, I'm pretty sure Levington will recognize that he has been submerging a talented young fashion designer all this while!"

"From a man who thinks his cuffed pants with sockless shoes are the way to go, I think it's best you stick with your job," teases Kurt. "How were the kids today?"

"Oh, the usual too," says Blaine. "Nick wet himself again, Ryan ran out of the classroom, Mallory got her instrument snatched away by Dennis and cried the whole day..."

"By cry, you mean she had a meltdown, don't you?" Kurt asks wryly, as he points to a fresh scratch on Blaine's wrist.

Blaine looks at him with a rueful smile. "She responded more quickly to the visual cues this time round though, so there's definitely progress."

Kurt waits patiently as Blaine serves dinner, and when they eventually start tucking into their meal, Kurt can't help but muse,

"I don't know how you do it. I've said it a million times, but it literally takes you _ages_ to see results from these kids and even then, those results are like _one_ miniscule step ahead for them in the grand scheme of their lives."

Blaine nearly chokes over his pasta. "Are we going through this again?"

"I'm being serious." Kurt eyes the cut on Blaine's wrist with a frown. "That's the fifth injury you've incurred within the first half of the month."

"They're six, Kurt," says Blaine, patiently. "Any kid at the age of six tumbles and kicks and can even get all catty."

Kurt narrows his eyes at Blaine. "Except that the ones you're handling do these on a seriously regular basis, on a larger scale. And by that, I mean like, everyday or something. I'm pretty sure there's a reason why they're in something called the Lima Autism Center instead of any ordinary daycare. _You know_."

Blaine puts down his cutlery gently. "Kurt, that one miniscule step is enough to keep me going for a really long time. It's so amazing and rewarding when that happens. It's like when you finally get to showcase your collection and you see it being paraded down the runway."

"I don't know..." Kurt twirls his pasta. "You're so musically gifted that I just feel sometimes..."

"Here we go," mutters Blaine.

"That sometimes you deserve so much more. That you deserve recognition. Those kids may take that step forward but they don't realize it's you who pushed them there. They're not going to tell other people, 'Hey, I owe this to my music therapist back at the LAC.'"

"I prefer the word 'guided'. And that's not true. There are some of them who will recognize."

"It's not the same," argues Kurt. "They don't see it the way you do, Blaine. They don't see _you _the way people should. They're –"

"Different," supplies Blaine.

"You know what I mean."

"Everyone _is_ different," says Blaine, with a little shrug. "It's just the extent to which one person is different from another."

Kurt sighs. "Look, I know how much those kids mean to you. My point is, I'm just worried that you think you can do so much for these people and start losing your heart to them when it's just – just not the same."

Blaine laughs. "Are you referring to Tina? Are you still mad at her?"

Kurt makes an impatient noise. Tina is one of his best friends and Blaine's ex-colleague at the Lima Autism Center – also pretty much their matchmaker, as she likes to say. She had a whirlwind year the moment she entered the LAC two years back as a behavioral therapist – she fell in love with her wheelchair-bound autistic mentee Artie Abrams while coaching him to pursue his dream of being a musical director and subsequently, decided to follow him to Los Angeles where he would study film and she would dabble in the musical theater scene there. While Kurt knew that there was something special between both of them (and had eventually given his blessings), it didn't stop him from grumbling from time to time.

"Well, it's up to her if she thinks LA's musical theater scene is going to be any good!"

"Aw, come on," says Blaine, with a chuckle. "She got into a good company and the tickets are selling really, really well. It's better than for her to be in NY or be in a travelling company, far away from everyone else."

"My point, to be precise, was not referring to Tina. I was referring to you."

"Don't be silly! I work with kids! I'm not about to be convicted for being a pedophile."

Kurt rolls his eyes. "You _melt _when it comes to kids. If they wanted you to do something for them, you'd do it in a heartbeat."

"Are you jealous?" Blaine winks.

Kurt remains serious as he continues, "Artie's really an exception. It was a huge risk for Tina to take – also extremely _unprofessional_, I might add – and she's just lucky that Artie picks up what she says really fast because he's really intelligent. You know that there are some people in that Center of yours that are _significantly_ different."

"Alright, alright, I get your point, Kurt," says Blaine. "I know you're just worried for me. Don't worry, I know where the line is. I've been working at the LAC longer than Tina has. I've worked with all kinds of autistic people, from kids to older ones. I know how to handle them and I know all about distance."

"You're also the one who encouraged her to see Artie for who he was," says Kurt, dryly. "Not that it's wrong, but it essentially set her on that path."

"The pasta is getting cold," is all Blaine says before he turns his full attention to the food.

Kurt lets his gaze linger on Blaine for a while. He usually doesn't like to push the matter because he loves Blaine and respects that he has a passion for his work that gives him the strength to be so dedicated. The steady and sunshine person that he is makes him such a fit for the job and is also exactly what made Kurt fall in love with him in the first place. Yet, as much as he has accumulated this respect, he has also come to know of the depth of Blaine's talents and wishes that there is so much more that Blaine can achieve in his life.

Blaine cheerfully speaks of new recipes that he wants to try, and Kurt lets his mind drift along.

For now.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Kurt thinks he sort of understands. The differences between people don't always have to be negative; it's exactly what his father had reassured him when he had come out. It's just that it's difficult to keep that perception when the evidence seems to claim otherwise.

Artie is not the only autistic person Kurt has met personally, even though he was the first and had made a significant impression when he made a ruckus at a musical that Kurt had attended with Tina, Blaine and their friend Mercedes two years ago. Incidentally, that was the first time Kurt had met Blaine and it had ended on a rather chaotic note thanks to Artie. Kurt was livid that Artie had spoiled the whole show, ticked off every other patron and embarrassed them all with his critical ramblings and till today, he hasn't really forgiven him for that.

Even though that did lead to the seedy café outing with Blaine that same night, which he has to admit he did enjoy thoroughly – and it wasn't just because of the grilled chicken.

_Oh well, some brownie points._

The other autistic person that Kurt knows is Sugar Motta, a former LAC participant who is now working at Levington & Kewell's as a designer-in-training. Kurt had instantly known that Sugar had a huge talent for fashion design when Tina had shown him some of her designs, and Levington had approved of them too.

Needless to say, Sugar's copious amounts of talents does not disguise the fact that she is very socially awkward amongst her colleagues. Her daily quips are regarded as eccentric and she is extremely blunt in expressing her views on others' works. Nobody likes to work with her and even Annie, the most patient of them all, has given up trying to guide Sugar through the human resource manual when Sugar keeps commenting that every second spent going through "useless information" like that was considered overtime and required payment.

And she was being dead serious.

Today is Sugar's first design presentation to the entire management team, a solo pitch for her first dream collection. She's been at the company for two years and has had her designs showcased at a fashion show, but it hadn't been her own per se. Levington has decided it's time to let her try her hand at pitching, but Kurt remains highly doubtful given that Sugar's currently clad in a ball of pink fur, black tights and equally pink and furry boots.

Everyone in the boardroom seems to think the same way, with all the arched eyebrows and pursed lips abound.

"Good morning everyone, I'm Sugar Motta," says Sugar, with a stare so wide that it's a little discomfiting for Kurt. "I'm going to present my first collection to all of you so I can hear your comments about it being very good."

Sugar's immediate boss, Jackie, tilts her head back in resignation.

"Sugar," says Kewell, with his signature hoity-toity lilt, "it's your first _pitch_ for a collection. You haven't been awarded it."

"Let her continue," says Kurt, irritated.

Kewell flashes him a glare, while Sugar just stares at him – pretty much unappreciatively, although Kurt knows better.

"My first collection..."

Kewell rolls his eyes.

"...is a series of jackets with bold prints. The material used ranges from thin cotton to thick faux fur with inner heat lining to cater to all seasons of the year. The main idea here is the prints, which are pop-art symbols of everyday life. The inspiration came from pop-artist Andy Warhol who made the Campbell and Marilyn Monroe pop art symbols cultural icons."

Sugar clicks the projector remote and the print samples appear on the screen. To Kurt's surprise, the prints are of keys, mailboxes and envelopes – rather unusual choices. Yet, somehow the subsequent images which superimpose the prints onto jackets of all sizes and types look appealing in all their quirkiness.

"Everybody's always telling me to check my mail and I don't remember," says Sugar. "This helps me remember. It'll help everyone remember too. People always talk through mail nowadays and we cannot stop talking."

"What?" comes an incredulous whisper at the back.

Kurt knows better. Sugar has obviously grasped the core meaning of Levington's conceptualization of fashion as being all about communication – communication of an idea, a feeling, between people. He can tell from Levington's expression that Sugar is clearly impressing him. Sugar's still talking in a strangely animated way that sounds almost didactic, but she clearly knows what she's talking about. She's done extensive research and the prints are surprisingly funky on sight.

Once Sugar's done with the slides, there is a burst of chatter. Some are already cooing over the next fashion fad of icon print jackets, but there are those who think it's extremely garish. A few others are debating amongst themselves about whether the material of the jacket would need to be standardized. Sugar stares at the whole commotion with an innocent curiosity, and Kurt is almost _jealous_ that none of that ruckus is getting to her. If it had been him, he'd be quite at a loss for words.

"Excuse me!"

A sharp voice pierces through the chatter and brings a cloud of silence over the table. A woman clad in a black biker jacket with a high blonde ponytail stands up and folds her arms. "It's just crazy how you thought that was worthy of being presented as a collection."

Sugar stares at her. "I don't understand."

"Oh, of course you don't understand," says the woman, with a sly smile. "Do you need me to write it out on the board so you can take your time to read?"

A few sniggers go round the table.

"Kitty, please elaborate your point," says Levington.

"First of all, pop art was so _yesterday_ –" says Kitty.

"There was nothing on pop art yesterday," Sugar interjects in a matter-of-fact tone.

The sniggers grow louder. Kurt groans internally while Kitty smirks and continues, "That whole thing about checking your mail is just pure bullshit and sucking up to Levington. Also, we've left our grunge roots behind for sophistication. This will take our rep down a notch!"

"Thank you, voice of reason!" Kewell throws his hands up in reverence.

"Kitty!" Levington's voice is stern.

The sniggers morph into murmurs. Kurt can tell the sounds are mostly assenting.

"Your evening gowns are not sophisticated," says Sugar, with a frown. "They have too many holes in them, like grunge jeans."

Kurt has to swallow his guffaw. Now _that_, he thought, is a voice of reason.

Kitty glares at Sugar. "Oh, so just because your fashion covers people up like a prude and dresses them up like clowns, you think you have the right to judge my works of art?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," says Sugar. "But I have works of art here that will do very well."

"What deluded world are you living in?!" demands Kitty. "This is a _company_, Sugar Motta, not some fancy rag-a-tag store that's humoring your little schoolgirl art pieces!"

Kurt notices that Sugar's fists are clenching. She's trying to calm herself down.

"That's enough, Kitty," says Levington, even as Kewell is still mock-bowing to Kitty.

"People here lack color in their life and my jackets will bring color," says Sugar, her voice now slightly unsteady.

Kitty snorts. "Yeah right, I think you're the one who's lacking –"

"I am a talented designer and you are a fucking sore loser!"

There's dead silence in the room.

Sugar stares back at all of them. "Sorry. Asperger's."

Kitty is smirking, but Kurt is more irritated that Sugar's boss Jackie is not speaking up for her at all. The designs are clearly well thought through and have a certain spark to it, but nobody seems to care anymore.

"Do you all like my work?" demands Sugar. Her tone is not accusing despite the volume; instead, Kurt feels like part of it is a plea.

There's silence once again. Kurt winces slightly at the intensity of Sugar's stare.

"We need color! We need to remember to talk!" Sugar's hands are now doing a rather heavy chopping motion in the air. "That's what I want to bring. That's what I want to make. That's what I want for people! Color! Art! Speak!"

Her voice is rising, and suddenly everybody's looking really uncomfortable. A few people at the back are now shifting out of the boardroom. Kewell's also out of his seat and looking warily at Sugar.

"Sugar," says Levington, his eyes wide at Sugar's flailing. "Calm down."

"Color! Art! Speak!" Sugar shouts. "Your gowns have no color and they are not works of art! They don't speak to anyone!"

"What right do you –" Kitty is incensed, but somebody's already pulling her out along with the rest.

Kurt gets up slowly and moves towards Sugar. This is the first time Sugar has acted up ever since joining the company; Tina and Blaine had never ever mentioned that she went into such a mode before and Kurt is now rather afraid.

"Careful, Kurt," warns Levington. Kewell's already scrambling out.

"Sugar," says Kurt, trying to sound as level as possible. "Look at me."

Sugar is still staring into the center of the room and arm-chopping wildly. "I am a talented designer!"

In the past, Kurt would have run out just like anyone else. But he's seen how an autistic kid calm down under Blaine's guidance before and it's quite a miraculous sight. He's not sure if he can do it, but he has to try, otherwise Sugar's emotions might escalate and turn into a full-blown meltdown.

That wouldn't be pretty.

"Sugar..."

She takes a file.

"Oh no."

CRASH! It narrowly misses Kurt's head.

_Oh my God._

"You are a fucking sore loser!" Sugar yells.

_Where did she learn that from?_ Kurt manages to make his way towards the front of the room without being assaulted by Sugar's flying materials and waves his hands to distract her, but she isn't looking.

He looks around desperately, but everybody has already left the room. Then he catches sight of a strewn piece of paper where Sugar has one of her prettiest prints on it. He grabs it and holds it before her, just inches shy of her hitting the paper. "Look, Sugar, these are your designs. Look at them."

"I hate you!" To Kurt's utmost surprise, Sugar's crying. Her eyes are looking everywhere but him and the piece of paper. "I hate all of you!"

"Sugar!" He tries to stay firm, though he can't help widening his eyes when she holds up another file. "Color, remember? You want to color people's lives."

Sugar howls; the file whizzes past Kurt and he grimaces. _Okay, Kurt, what did Blaine say before about them acting up?_

_Focus._

Focus. Calm. Yes. They need a central focus whenever they're acting up – a focus that steadies their world. So Kurt gathers his courage to step forward and swiftly – but not too harshly – grabs Sugar's finger before it reaches for another file and points it at her prints. "Sugar. Look."

Sugar's gaze immediately snaps to the color before her and she stops howling altogether. Her finger wobbles as it traces the prints. Kurt lets her do that for a while, until her finger movement slows down.

"It's a fantastic idea, Sugar," says Kurt, in a low voice. "I loved it."

Her eyebrows knot as she stares hard at her prints.

"I just think you need to know what the company's trends have been like."

"I know –" Sugar begins, tears streaming down her face. Her finger starts to wobble again.

Kurt motions for her to stay silent as he continues slowly, "If you don't like it, then you need to show the company why the change is good." He guides her to trace her prints again so as to calm her down further. "It's nice for you, but it's a big change for others. They need to be convinced. That's your area of improvement for presentation."

Sugar is still muttering, "_I'm a talented designer_" under her breath, but with Kurt's constant murmurs of, _"It's okay, you're good, it's okay,"_, slowly and gradually, her gaze refocuses on Kurt. He draws in a deep breath of relief as her breathing steadies and her hands stop fidgeting. Once she is calmer, he guides her to help tidy up the room. Sugar goes about it in a most methodical way, following the edge of the room, while Kurt tidies up the strewn files and papers on the tables.

"I know I'm good," says Sugar, after a while.

Kurt frowns a little as he passes her the materials. "Area of improvement, Sugar."

She stares at him, then takes her things and walks out of the boardroom with a final, "I will show them I'm good!"

Kurt slumps against the wall and rolls his eyes to the ceiling. If that was how Lima Autism Center empowered its participants, it was certainly doing a damn fine job of it.

-.-.-.-.-.-

When Kurt finally gets to press the doorbell of his apartment, it feels like he has triumphantly led an army – of his brain cells and emotions – to conquer enemy lands.

Well not really, the company is still called Levington & _Kewell's_.

It's mainly conquering a meltdown, but he's pretty sure Blaine will be in awe.

"I'm as good as any of you guys at the LAC," Kurt murmurs under his breath with a grin.

The door swings open and Kurt is ready to repeat that statement at twice the decibels. Instead, he's greeted with a loud yell of,

"Oh good, you're back home! Can you watch her for a moment? I really need to pee, I've been waiting for _ages_!"

Before Kurt can really comprehend head or tail of what Blaine had just shouted, the latter has already dashed off in the direction of the bathroom, leaving the door wide open in his wake.

"You make a guy very welcome at home," mutters Kurt as he steps in, hangs his coat –

And stops short.

This day has to really stop springing surprises on him.

There is a young girl with a bushy brown ponytail kneeling by the coffee table in the middle of their living room. She looks no more than five years old, and she's very focused on drawing circles incessantly on a piece of drawing block.

Kurt's eyes narrow as he walks towards the girl. She doesn't flinch when he sits down on the couch to stare at her.

"Hey," he says, smiling immediately. "What's your name?"

The girl ignores him and continues drawing.

"If everybody at work could be as focused as you, we'd be raking in the money," says Kurt, as he offers her a pink color pencil. "That's enough blue, I think?"

She is still ignoring him, so he pushes the pencil a little nearer to her. To his shock, she grabs the pink pencil out of his grasp and stabs his hand hard with it.

"OW!" Kurt hisses, snatching his hand back. "You little –"

"Hey, Kurt!" Blaine's out of the bathroom and before Kurt can complain, he leans over to kiss Kurt's forehead. "Didn't want to leave her alone so was waiting for you to be back and I realized that was quite stupid because I really had to go to the bathroom and then you weren't back and –"

The moment Kurt hears the phrase 'didn't want to leave her alone', he tunes out because he has noticed something about the girl's drawing.

She is drawing blue circles of different sizes on the paper. But they are very neat little circles, with just about one small tip sticking out of the circle end. That small tip is about the same size for each circle. None of the circles overlap with each other.

And she is still not looking up despite Blaine's chatters.

Kurt gives Blaine a look, effectively shutting him up.

"She stabbed me with a color pencil," says Kurt, pointedly.

Blaine immediately winces and says, "Oh crap, Kurt, sorry.". He kneels down by the girl, but before he can chastise her, Kurt taps on his shoulder.

"Maybe you'd like to tell me why she's here first, before you go into a kiddy lecture?"

Blaine raises his hands and looks meek. "I didn't mean to give you a shock. I meant to give you a proper introduction... also, Jamie really means no harm."

"That's a start," says Kurt, slowly. He's calming himself down at the same time, because he really doesn't like that the little brat is still drawing away instead of looking miserable and guilty. Then again, he shouldn't be calling her a brat, but he's just really pissed off after a long day of having to deal with Sugar and now this girl. "Her name is Jamie."

"Jamie Chase, to be specific." Blaine sits down cross-legged by the coffee table and shoots Jamie a quick glance. "She's the newest member of the –"

"LAC," cuts in Kurt. "Yes, it's kind of obvious."

Blaine frowns slightly, then nods. "She just came today, but the problem is, she's too young to be put up at the dormitories at the LAC."

"Her parents can't afford to bring her to and fro the LAC?"

"She's an orphan."

"Oh." Kurt's glare softens.

Blaine puts an open palm on the table next to Jamie's free hand. To Kurt's surprise, despite Jamie still focusing on drawing her circles, she puts her little hand in Blaine's. Blaine rubs her hand a little, and Jamie's drawing slows down a little.

"Please don't tell me that you volunteered to put her up here," says Kurt, tiredly.

Blaine looks a little guilty, then lets go of Jamie's hand. "I might have just said that I could help... temporarily?"

Kurt stares at him. "Temporarily?"

"The orphanage doesn't want to keep her because they don't know how to handle her. Sue kinda signed the papers before it got into her head that Jamie's too young to stay at the dorms alone..."

"_What?_"

"Artie was the only orphan the LAC had before and he was independent," explains Blaine. "So Sue just _assumed _that the orphanage would send somebody along, but that just isn't happening. So she's getting a permanent handler to supervise Jamie after classes. But..." Blaine looks awkwardly at Kurt. "That'll take about a month."

"That's called temporary? When you want to put her up here for _a month_?"

"We can think of other options in the meantime, maybe?" Blaine looks at him hopefully. "Just for a few nights – we'll work it out together."

Kurt's having some trouble trying to keep his temper down. He knows what Blaine is like and that Blaine would have immediately thought of how to take care of the kid and everything. On a better day, maybe he would have been supportive, but right now, he really can't swallow this down.

"Blaine, this is a matter to be worked out by the Center, not by us. You're the one who's been trying to convince me that Sue Sylvester isn't the boss from hell, so why is she dumping this on you?"

"Kurt, that's the problem. Nobody wants to have to care for someone like Jamie outside of work." Blaine sighs. "And I know how that feels and it _sucks_."

Kurt opens his mouth to argue further, but finds that he can't. He diverts his stare to Jamie, who's moved onto another sheet of drawing block. Then he looks back at Blaine, who's carefully avoiding his gaze. "Blaine, look at me."

Blaine reluctantly complies.

"Maybe..." Kurt doesn't know quite how to word this without raising his voice, but he's trying very, _very_ hard. "Maybe we should have had this discussion _before_ the kid entered our home."

"Kurt, I'm so sorry," whispers Blaine as he gets up to sit next to Kurt. "It's just that none of the others could put Jamie up and I just thought –" He hangs his head. "Sorry, I just assumed and I really shouldn't have."

When Kurt doesn't respond, Blaine tries to offer a bright smile. "You know, it'll be good practice for us!"

Kurt looks at him incredulously.

"I mean, we've talked about how we love kids and we want to have some of our own... and I think taking care of Jamie might just give us a little taste of what's to come." Blaine pauses, then his voice softens as he murmurs, "And we're doing a good deed too."

Kurt massages his forehead with his free hand. They have certainly had that conversation, but the road leading up to this vision wasn't exactly the one before him right now.

Blaine's smile fades and he looks stricken. "I know... shit, I know. I don't know what came over me."

"Look, I understand how you feel. I'm not trying to be difficult, Blaine," says Kurt, taking his hand. "But taking care of a kid like Jamie at the LAC is very different from taking care of her at home. And when we talked about trying to raise a kid, I don't think we were thinking of..." He trails off, looking helplessly at Jamie, who's finally switched to drawing green circles because the blue has become far too blunt. The pink pencil still sits in the corner and the pain in Kurt's hand throbs as he eyes it.

"I'll speak to the orphanage director tomorrow," says Blaine, after a moment's silence. "We'll see if we can negotiate something with her."

Kurt curses inwardly that he can't help but feel guilty that Blaine is in an obvious dilemma. With a sigh, he leans over to kiss Blaine's cheek. "I can try to work this out with you, Blaine. I suppose I can still handle a night or two. But that's all we can give this little girl. You know what I meant when I said those things yesterday about getting too close to them. These are your students, Blaine. That's it."

Blaine grips Kurt's hand tightly. "Thank you, Kurt."

For the rest of the day, Kurt doesn't tell Blaine about what happened at work. All he can concentrate on is how Blaine carefully guides Jamie through her schedule: dinner, then ten minutes of rest, a bath, a storybook read and bedtime. Blaine preps her slowly but firmly, and makes sure she's comfortable before the beginning of every phase of the schedule. Dinner's pasta again, but given the short span of time Blaine had to make dinner, there's no other option that would prove to be as healthy – and as familiar to Jamie. The girl doesn't speak; she just follows Blaine's instructions. Occasionally, she doesn't respond and it takes a while before Blaine can coax her to the next activity. Kurt leaves the two of them halfway to finish up some of his work, though there are a hundred things racing through his mind.

It's been just two years, but Kurt has no doubt that Blaine is the man he wants to spend the rest of his life with. All through college, there were a few guys here and there who were attractive, or intelligent, or sensitive, or charismatic. But Blaine is all of it; in fact, Kurt feels _empowered_ by his relationship with Blaine. Blaine always encourages him, comforts him, humors him and makes him feel motivated to strive hard in his work and in his relationships with friends and family. In turn, he knows he is a bedrock for Blaine, the steady source of support, love and care Blaine had never received in his early years.

There is no way they can marry in Ohio, though Kurt often dreams of it. What they have agreed on is that they want to have kids in the future. It doesn't matter if they are conceived via surrogate or adopted, all Kurt and Blaine want is to have a family of their own.

But does it matter after all? What if the child – what if the child they conceive or adopt – is like Jamie?

Kurt stops drawing.

He gets up and moves to the next room, which has been converted into a Creative Room of sorts. It's where Kurt can doodle on the whiteboard walls and Blaine can lounge in a beanbag to read, play the guitar or sort out a few simple games for his kids at work. There are brightly colored props ranging from tables, chairs, lamps, shelves... anything Kurt thought would be a great trigger for inspiration.

Of course, that made it a most attractive option of becoming the eventual kids' room, but Kurt hadn't expected it to be _that_ soon.

Blaine is sitting in the beanbag as usual, this time with Jamie snuggled up against him staring wide-eyed at the book before them. He's reading slowly yet animatedly and his eyes sparkle as he meets Kurt's gaze. His reading slows down and when he reaches the end, he makes sure to pronounce 'The End' very clearly. With that, Jamie gets up automatically and goes to the plump mattress in the middle of the floor where Blaine has made a small, comfy bed for her. For a moment, she makes eye contact with Kurt, but her stare is so wide and piercing that Kurt has to look away. When he does look back, she's walking around the mattress, as if to survey it.

"There're no bedbugs, honey," says Kurt, dryly.

Jamie sits down on it.

"Does she speak?" Kurt frowns.

"Yeah, she does, but I think usually only when spoken to," says Blaine. "I'm guessing she probably prefers to draw."

"Right."

Blaine looks at Jamie who is patting her bed down meticulously, then at Kurt. "I think... I think I should spend the night with her."

Kurt notices the little pink luggage in the corner. Then he nods. How can he say no? "That'll be good."

Blaine sits before Jamie and tells her in a low voice what to expect the next morning: they would be bringing her to see her old home at the orphanage. Jamie makes rather strangled noises upon hearing that, but Blaine is patient and uses a few cards he has in his hands to focus her attention. Kurt can't really hear the exact conversation because he's distracted by Blaine's honeyed tone and Jamie's little noises. Slowly, Blaine tucks Jamie into bed and even though she seems a little uncomfortable with the new nest, it doesn't take very long before she closes her eyes.

"I thought she might have adjustment issues," says Kurt, quietly. "Don't they hate changes in routines and environment and all that?"

"With sufficient preparation, it's not so bad," says Blaine, looking up with a small smile. "Emma and I went through a very detailed process with her about what to expect, and I did take her round the house just now, so it's not so bad. Besides, I think she's tired by all the moving around places today so she's not too particular."

Kurt watches as Blaine softly pats the bundle that is Jamie. He knows that Emma Pillsbury is a senior behavioral therapist at LAC and would definitely provide good guidance to Jamie. It just feels weird not being in the loop right from the beginning as compared to everyone else at the LAC.

He must have somehow shown the uneasiness on his face because Blaine gets up, crosses over to him and slips his arms around his waist.

Blaine leans in, but Kurt pulls back slightly.

"Are you still mad at me?" Blaine asks ruefully.

Kurt doesn't answer; he just searches Blaine's eyes.

"I'm not Tina," whispers Blaine. "I won't be, Kurt. I just want to help her, that's all."

"That's what Tina said when she started out with Artie," says Kurt, wryly. He reaches up to cup Blaine's face with both hands. "That big, generous heart of yours is what I love about you, Blaine Anderson, but sometimes it opens far too many doors that you won't be able to close when the time comes."

Blaine sighs, then leans to press his nose against Kurt's. "I love how you always support my ridiculous antics even though it's really infuriating. How do you do it?"

Kurt feels something wet in his eyes, but he blinks quickly and presses a quick kiss to Blaine's lips. "Goodnight, dear."

Blaine looks like he wants to say something else, but he finally just shakes his head and whispers, "Goodnight, Kurt," before breaking away.

Kurt goes back to his room and sits down on the bed. He stares at the designs he's pinned up on the wall and bites his bottom lip.

_I can do this, Kurt Hummel. I managed Sugar Motta today, and Jamie is just a kid who hates pink color pencils. She won't kill me. She won't kill us. We're going to be fine._

_As long as the orphanage takes her back in tomorrow._


	3. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

Kurt awakes to an extremely loud CRASH! outside his bedroom. He flings away the covers and darts out, only to find that the kitchen is in a complete mess, with Blaine standing in the middle looking rather woebegone.

Kurt narrows his eyes as he walks over to see Jamie at Blaine's feet, covered in egg yolk and shells as a metal plate rattles away in the corner. Before he can comment, Jamie starts to make strangled noises.

Blaine immediately snatches a towel from the rack and wipes Jamie's face, whispering, "It's okay, Jamie, it's okay," but her noises are getting louder. In fact, she's practically shrieking.

"Get her out of there," says Kurt, immediately. "She's going to cut herself on eggshells."

Blaine carries a kicking and screaming Jamie to the sofa in the sitting room. He nearly overbalances, but somehow both of them manage to land in the sofa.

"Need anything?" asks Kurt.

"My cards. I left it in her room," says Blaine, his voice even. Kurt knows that he has long been trained to be stable as possible in situations like this to avoid alarming the child further.

Kurt darts into the Creative Room to get Blaine's visual cards. As he searches, it suddenly registers that Blaine had said that it was _her_ room, but that gets shoved to the back of his mind when he finds the cards on a side table.

Blaine doesn't even look up as he takes the cards from Kurt and begins to flip through. Jamie's screaming is a little more intermittent, but she is still struggling against Blaine.

"Is she allergic to eggs?" asks Kurt, tentatively.

"No, I let her too near the eggs and she picked one of them up," says Blaine.

"Oh," says Kurt, unable to contain a slight smile. "Right."

"I think she got upset that it broke and it made her want to break the rest too."

"Wow." Kurt's smile disappears.

Blaine flashes a visual card and speaks in low tones to Jamie. Kurt forces himself to turn away to survey the mess. Then he closes his eyes.

_Breathe, Kurt, breathe._

Drawing a mighty deep breath, Kurt goes about cleaning up the broken eggs while Blaine calms Jamie down by humming a little tune. He picks off the shells in her hair in time with the song and encourages her to do the same. Within five minutes, Jamie's also singing along (though with garbled lyrics) as she cleans herself up with Blaine's help. Kurt arches his eyebrows at how quick Jamie has calmed down as compared to Sugar yesterday, or Artie last year as he recalls, but he says nothing.

Blaine finally stands up and stretches. He catches sight of Kurt looking at him and immediately looks sheepish.

"Wow, my bad for that clanger of a morning call!" He scratches the back of his neck. "I'm guessing you're not up for eggs this morning?"

"Toast and jam might just do," says Kurt, with a tight smile. "Do you want to clean her up more thoroughly? Get a new dress or something?"

"Yup, I'll do just that," says Blaine, taking Jamie's hand. "Sorry, help yourself to the jam and toast! Jamie, let's go get changed!"

Blaine gets Jamie into a simple blue dress and matching blue shoes. Kurt offers to braid her hair, but Jamie doesn't seem to like the idea as she keeps twisting her head to stare impassively at Kurt. He turns away and stares at the pink luggage in the corner of the room once again.

Throughout the ride to the orphanage, Kurt can't help looking at Blaine, who is speaking to Jamie in the usual low tones through the rear mirror. Something twists within him, but he can't quite put a finger to it. He dismisses it as he pulls into the parking lot and puts on his best smile. They leave Jamie with the receptionist before making their way to the orphanage director's office.

Kurt is very surprised when they enter the director's office. Maybe he has been thinking way too much along the lines of Carol Burnett in _Annie_, along with the chain-smoking bits. He definitely isn't prepared to see a young, beautiful blonde-haired woman in a pristine white dress. He is about to hold out a hand to shake hers when Blaine speaks first,

"You're looking good."

"Looking fine yourself, Anderson," says the woman, with a twinkle in her eyes.

"You know each other?" Kurt cocks his head to the side.

"I didn't know it was going to be her," says Blaine. "I always thought she was the assistant director – I mean, weren't you, Quinn?"

Quinn holds out her hand to Kurt instead. "Quinn Fabray. You must be Kurt Hummel."

"I can't tell if it's supposed to be flattering that my name precedes me," says Kurt, with a laugh.

Quinn merely smiles, then turns to Blaine. "To answer your question, I _was_ the assistant director."

"Congrats on the promotion!"

"Nothing to be that jubilant about," says Quinn, in a deadpan voice. "These kids will drive me up the wall."

Blaine shoots Kurt a significant look.

"So, how's Artie?" asks Quinn, sitting down and gesturing to them to take a seat.

Kurt continues to be bewildered, so Blaine gently explains that Quinn was the one who referred Artie to the LAC after several years of being in the orphanage after his family's car crash when he was eight years old.

"Why did you refer Artie to the LAC?" asks Kurt, thinking of Jamie outside.

Quinn looks at him a tad too long, then smiles thinly again. "Artie was getting far too old for our orphanage. We have limited resources here, Mr. Hummel. My staff are also not trained in handling special needs people."

"Artie is fine, by the way," says Blaine. "The last we heard, he's managing very well in college."

"That's great," says Quinn, visibly relaxing.

"Well, as I shared last night over the phone, we're really here for Jamie Chase," says Blaine. "We..." He shoots Kurt an encouraging smile. "We thought maybe you can share a bit more about her?"

"Did you receive our report?" asks Quinn, leaning back against her chair. "I thought it was quite comprehensive."

Kurt narrows his eyes at her.

"Something more from your personal observations?" Blaine asks.

"She's always been a very quiet child," Quinn replies. "It's a vicious cycle really, she keeps away from others and they keep away from her because she isolates herself from the rest."

"The staff also leaves her alone?" Kurt asks, skeptically.

"They do try," says Quinn. "But you know these kids – you push them a bit too far and it'll be a nightmare for the rest of the day."

Blaine immediately stiffens and Kurt reaches out for his hand.

"I'm sorry." Quinn looks awkwardly at Blaine. "It's – it's just that we had Artie here for so many years and it wasn't easy on anyone. The kids got moody, bitchy and we had to keep them away from Artie to minimize the negativity. It was horrible for everyone as much as it was for Artie. I know the LAC would probably provide him a more conducive environment for his learning and development. And it did. The last time I saw him, he was so _different_. He was so much more confident and he was going places. He had grown into a fine young man who believed in himself and others."

Kurt feels Blaine relax slightly under his hand.

"It's the same for Jamie. We don't have the resources to conduct a separate early intervention plan for her."

"Actually, Miss Fabray," says Kurt. "We're here to ask if Jamie can continue staying at the orphanage –"

"That wasn't the arrangement I agreed on," says Quinn, her eyes now wary. "I thought when Blaine mentioned 'living arrangements' over the phone, you just needed my opinion on how best to take care of her."

"The LAC can't find someone to be with Jamie during after-school hours within such a short period of time," explains Blaine.

"Maybe Sue Sylvester should have thought about that before signing the papers," snaps Quinn.

"She has thought about it since," says Kurt, though he can't really believe he's sticking up for Sue Sylvester.

"You think Miss Sylvester didn't try to tell me to keep her _since_?" Quinn snorts. "Besides, what the LAC decides on is their business."

"You mean, even if an orphaned kid ends up in a home not suitable for him or her and she's sent back here, you won't take him or her in?"

Quinn's jaw stiffens.

"Miss Fabray, please understand that we're not asking you to take care of her _forever_," says Kurt. "We're just asking that she continue staying here until the LAC can find a suitable caretaker for her to accompany her in dormitory living there."

"I just received a funding cut for the orphanage," says Quinn, sharply. "We have also recently enrolled a surprisingly large number of children here and there is no way that our staff can spare any time to take such specific care of Jamie anymore. After Artie's stay taxed us so much, the board of governors haven't been pleased. When I took over, they gave me a cut-off date to send any special needs children to the various centers and therefore, despite sounding like a broken record about it, I have to reiterate that I have no more resources to cater to them."

Blaine looks at Kurt helplessly.

"I don't get it," says Kurt. "I mean, I get the resources part but it just baffles me that you're sending Jamie away and probably every other future kid whom your orphanage think you can't handle. That completely goes against the very principle of the orphanage, doesn't it? To take in every child regardless of who they are?"

"These are children with learning disabilities, Mr. Hummel," says Quinn, coldly. "I'm not trying to discriminate against them when I'm just trying to cater to their needs."

"So every time you get a kid with learning disabilities, you're just going to offload them to the various centers?" Kurt asks. "I mean, no offense, but your center also has something that none of the rest has – the psychological therapy that the kid undergoes to cope with the absence of parental figures. Why don't you... I don't know, focus on building your resources so you can build your capacity?"

Quinn's face hardens. "Try telling that to our mayor who has no heart for the disadvantaged corners of the community. He heads the board of governors here and even though he's never stepped a foot inside here, he calls the shots."

"I mean you could always _try_! It makes it seem so convenient that –"

"He's the one who sent me to live here when I was eight, in a frickin' _orphanage_," snaps Quinn, all of a sudden. "I don't expect him to be handing out any favors to a place like this, let alone one that I grew up in and is now run by _me_. It's like I'm throwing it in his face and I jolly well am!"

Kurt stares at her. "Your father is... _was_, I mean,..."

"He changed his name after he divorced my mother and before he joined politics, that coward," seethes Quinn. "And in case, you're wondering, she ran off with another man."

Kurt falls silent. Mayor Russell Farland was a notorious hard-handed conservative and it was intriguing that he had sent his daughter away when he had campaigned hard against issues like abortion.

"Now, we all want what's best for Jamie," says Quinn, her voice quivering. "She needs to be in an environment that caters to her needs and her learning pace. I don't think that's very hard to understand, Mr. Hummel. As much as you have spent time arguing for the orphanage to be magnanimous in keeping her, it seems to me that you're eager to offload her yourself."

"You –" Kurt hates that everybody's rubbing him up the wrong way of late.

"I think we've had enough of this conversation," says Blaine, suddenly getting up. "Jamie's not a piece of good to be _offloaded_ anywhere. I'm quite disappointed, Quinn, I expected so much more since you grew up with Artie in this place and would have understood more about who he is."

Quinn smirks bitterly. "Do you know when Artie was first sent to the LAC by our director, I argued so much against his transfer? I thought they were making him out to be a weirdo, that he had to be sent there to be _treated_ for what he was. I understood that he wasn't different; he was just an angry and broken boy. But we couldn't heal him _here_. Not when nobody else wanted to."

"_You_ could have," says Kurt, then stops short. He knows it doesn't make any sense to argue any further.

He knows that Quinn is right about how hypocritical he is for having come here.

With that, he turns and leaves without saying another word.

Kurt walks outside to the garden where there are a bunch of kids playing. A lady is yelling at them to stop climbing the tree and a few of them make funny faces at her. The rest are running around playing catch or sitting by the sandpit making little sandcastles. They're looking at each other, talking, grinning, laughing.

Blaine comes out to the stairway. "Hey."

"Where's Jamie?" asks Kurt.

"They'll take care of her for the day," says Blaine, smiling weakly. "That's their best offer."

"Great compromise," mutters Kurt.

He turns back to look at the kids. Blaine makes his way over and looks on as well.

"They look happy," says Kurt. "It feels a little weird listening to Miss Fabray talk about the place like it's all uncaring and gloomy and wretched."

Blaine laughs mirthlessly. "She grew up here. I'd like to think she wanted to change the environment but found that it wasn't as simple."

Immediately, a song comes to Kurt's mind as he stares at the children running around –

_It's the hard-knock life for us  
It's the hard-knock life for us  
No one cares for you a smidge  
When you're in an orphanage  
It's the hard-knock life  
It's the hard-knock life  
It's the hard-knock life!_

"How about you and I take a little stroll?" asks Blaine, linking his arm through Kurt's. "Perfect weather for that."

They head to a nearby park, but not before Blaine stuffs his hands into his jacket pockets and Kurt folds his arms. Kurt looks around tentatively, then sighs. "You know I didn't mean to be difficult. But she just –"

"No," agrees Blaine. "Tina told me when Artie first came to the LAC, Quinn visited him and was a pretty tough nut to crack in general. She's just full of bitterness I think. Her idea of care seems to be rather warped. So maybe it's actually for Jamie's good that she's not staying at the orphanage anymore."

"It's not just about Quinn Fabray," says Kurt. "Blaine, it's one thing to teach those kids and another to care for one in your own household. We can't possibly take care of her _now_... I'm not even trained in handling these kids and you're already having to deal with so much at work and –"

"I know. I know it's a daunting prospect."

"–so much going on in our lives, let alone a kid whom you have to literally grab her attention and –"

"It's manageable, I promise, Kurt," says Blaine, looking all-too sincere. "She'll be spending most of the day at the LAC and all you have to do is come home and enjoy your dinner and maybe spend a bit of time with her, that's all. I'll handle any difficult moments."

"I just don't like the idea of it," mutters Kurt. "I'm all for us trying out to be parents, but I wasn't expecting this kind of an assignment, to be very honest."

"Neither was I," says Blaine. "And I'm scared too."

Kurt stops walking.

Blaine turns to face him. "It's not like there's a shining example of a father in my life. Sometimes, I get really scared that I won't know how to love my kids – I feel like I want to give them _everything_ that I didn't feel like I had and make them feel like nothing can get them down, but I don't want to spoil them."

He rubs his nose. "You know when Sue asked if anyone wanted to care for Jamie in the meantime, I was – I was actually the first to say I couldn't possibly. Everybody thought I was nuts because I work with the kids."

Kurt feels a slight pang of guilt, but he patiently waits for Blaine to continue.

"You're right, Kurt. I know if she was taken out of the school context, I would lose my heart easily to her. I would want to love this girl the way she deserves because nobody else will."

"It's not wrong to think that way," says Kurt softly, as he takes Blaine's hands. "I just – it's just this new addition to our – our household just feels so weird. You may see this on a regular basis, but – but I don't. I'm not used to it. I may not see what you guys do in the classrooms every day, but I've seen you handle some of the kids at the car porch of the LAC when their parents come to pick them up. You're good with them." He thinks back to Sugar Motta and sighs inwardly. The sense of triumph has long disappeared. "I'm not."

"How about this?" asks Blaine, after a moment's silence. "Let's give it two weeks, we will try our very very best, but if either of us can't take it anymore, then I'm throwing the ball back in Sue's court."

"Is that even an option?" Kurt asks, skeptically.

"I don't know," admits Blaine. "But we're going to do our best for two weeks and see how it goes. Can we?"

Kurt meets Blaine's gaze and lets out another dramatic sigh. "You know I can't refuse you when you have those puppy eyes on."

"What do you mean, puppy eyes on? These _are_ my eyes."

When all Kurt does is to bite his bottom lip, Blaine takes Kurt's hands. "Is there something else you want to tell me?"

Kurt cocks his head to the side. Part of him really wants to relate what happened at the office yesterday with Sugar. Yet part of him just wants to let it go and move on with the day.

He decides to go in another direction. "How did you calm Jamie down this morning? What did you tell her?"

Blaine smiles. "A stable, calm voice reciting breathing techniques helps a lot in distracting. That's the first step – to distract from the actual problem. That way, she will be a little more detached from the situation and you're better able to catch her attention. Then focus on something that she likes. Did you hear me humming?"

"Yeah," says Kurt. "But I don't recognize the song."

"No song in particular," says Blaine. "She just likes the humming sound. Then along the way here, I proceeded to rationalize the situation for her. It's important so that the person is a little more prepared and knows not to be so sensitive the next time round."

"She's what – five? Six?"

Blaine laughs. "Six. Trust me, it can be done. I told her it's okay to break an egg. That you have to break an egg to make scrambled eggs or omelets, which she likes. But it has to be broken into a bowl, not on the floor. That kind of thing. I just walked – no, talked her through the steps of making an omelet. The next step would be to walk her through it then, but there was no chance. So I probably will let her do it tonight and..."

He trails off, looking awkward. "I mean... supposing she does stay. I'm not trying to... maybe we could... no, I'm sorry, you should let me know what you –"

"Hey." Kurt catches his gaze. "Look at me."

Blaine scrunches up his nose.

"I can't believe we're doing this," says Kurt, quietly. "But – but as long as she lives in _our_ house, I have some responsibility too."

Now Blaine looks at him thoughtfully.

Kurt fists Blaine's jacket and pulls him closer, then bumps his nose onto Blaine's.

"Is that a yes?" whispers Blaine.

"You're an ass," is all Kurt says, before he presses his lips against Blaine's softly. Blaine's laughing; soft puffs of air vibrating against his lips that never fail to send tingles through him. When they break away, Kurt can see a few people staring at them disdainfully out of the corner of his eye, but he finds that he doesn't really care, not when Blaine is brushing leaf bits out of his hair tenderly.

"I love you," says Blaine, bringing his hand down to Kurt's cool cheek. "So very, _very_ much."

"Come on," says Kurt, linking his arm with Blaine's once again. "Let's go get ourselves some dinner before we get Jamie."

Blaine breaks into a brilliant smile, the kind Kurt loves because it crinkles up his eyes and radiates warmth and love. If keeping Jamie meant making Blaine smile like that every day, Kurt wouldn't hesitate at all.

The thing is, he knows it wouldn't be like that every day.

-.-.-.-.-.-

On the drive back, Kurt takes a peek at the rear mirror again where Blaine has Jamie tucked up by his side. Blaine is smoothening out Jamie's blond curls while the girl makes little gurgling snores. Kurt has never heard a sound more adorable than that.

He looks back on the road and begins to sing softly,

_Tomorrow, tomorrow  
I love you, tomorrow_

Then Blaine's warm voice chimes in lightly with a harmony,

_You're always a day away_

-.-.-.-.-.-

**Kurt Hummel**  
Hey dear, you there?

**Mercedes Jones**  
what up! what are you doing on FB at this hour? I thought you said it was a travesty for your complexion if you sleep past midnight

Or sth

**Kurt Hummel**  
Yea, but I only sleep really well when Blaine's with me.

**Mercedes Jones**  
no

**Kurt Hummel**  
No what?

**Mercedes Jones**  
You two dint have a fight did you

**Kurt Hummel**  
Nooooo! Nononono, that's not what I meant. We are sleeping in different rooms, but it's not because we're mad at each other.

**Mercedes Jones**  
I aint Sherlock Kurt please be more specific

**Kurt Hummel**  
And please put your fullstops and question marks and all, it's rather grating when you don't.

**Mercedes Jones**  
Yes? Kurt? Now. Spill.

**Kurt Hummel**  
...we've got a kid in the house and Blaine's taking care of her.

**Mercedes Jones**  
WHAT WHATWHATWHAT

When did this happen?

**Kurt Hummel**  
Huh? Yesterday

Oh. Oh wait.

**Mercedes Jones**  
OMG SUCH A MOMENTOUS MOMENT AND YOU DINT SAY A WORD YOU BASTARD

**Kurt Hummel**  
HOLD IT BEFORE YOU CALL ME BAST

Okay I was too late. NO WAIT

**Mercedes Jones**  
A FAMILY KURT YOU HAVE A FAMILY OMG

waiting... with zero patience

.

**Kurt Hummel**  
-_- kid's from the LAC. She's just homing with us FOR A WHILE. Kid's just transferred from the orphanage who doesn't want her and nobody else at the LAC really wants to take care of her.

**Mercedes Jones**  
Damn. you made me all happy for nuthin

that man of yours needs to shrink his heart a couple of sizes down.

**Kurt Hummel**  
Thank you, Mercedes. You know exactly what to say.

**Mercedes Jones**  
Which is what you said but dint work right

?

Damn Kurt I hate punctuation?!#% #

**Kurt Hummel**  
The English punctuation has just been desecrated.

**Mercedes Jones**  
why do I get the feeling youre not happy about it?

**Kurt Hummel**  
Did you get the part about the kid being from the LAC?

**Mercedes Jones**  
...I just got it

ooh dang. kids name is?

**Kurt Hummel**  
Jamie Chase. She's actually really pretty and cute... until she stabs you with a color pencil because you tried to expand her color palette.

**Mercedes Jones**  
wow thats rough. are kids harder to handle than the grownup ones like Artie?

**Kurt Hummel**  
I dunno. I hope they're easier to handle because they're still pretty much at the beginning of their learning journey.

**Mercedes Jones**  
so Blaine has abandoned you for her? Imma gonna go all R-E-S-P-E-C-T on him

**Kurt Hummel**  
Let's not put it that way!

He's just taking care of her. He knows how to handle her better anyway.

**Mercedes Jones**  
how long is this arrangement gonna be

pls tell me its for days because you my friend aint staying in your room alone for more than three days

**Kurt Hummel**  
Ha. It was supposed to be a month, but Blaine and I agreed to give it our best for two weeks and work it out from there.

**Mercedes Jones**  
you poor child :)

I mean :(

anw

I really shouldnt be saying that since our best friend is in love with an autistic man and your man is in love with an autistic child but I seriously think theyre a bit much to handle

**Kurt Hummel**  
Well... in a way, I get them, you know? We all look the same as any normal person but we're not regarded as normal because there's something inside that's different. It's the way we act that's different, so people judge us based on that.

Jamie could be a really sweet little girl at heart but she doesn't know how to tell people she hates pink color so the only way she knows to get attention is to, well, stab people with a color pencil.

**Mercedes Jones**  
that makes sense, but its still rough

.

**Kurt Hummel**  
Well Blaine and I have talked about starting a family

**Mercedes Jones**  
WHAT WHATWHAT

ok Im kidding I knew this one

**Kurt Hummel**  
and we talked about kids and all and he's saying maybe this is good practice

Mercedes, I'm no religious person but I'm praying really really hard that this practice bears absolutely NO resemblance to what is to come in reality

It feels horrible of me, but I can't stand the thought of my child just

Jesus I AM horrible

**Mercedes Jones**  
it makes perfect sense darling

**Kurt Hummel**  
I will love him or her all the same

I really will

It's just that it's not the same

Crap I don't know what I'm talking about

**Mercedes Jones**  
ha, you do. I know youre not drunk cos your swearing is so mild

Kurt stop burying your head in your hands

**Kurt Hummel**  
Ah well

**Mercedes Jones**  
aw kiddo Im here for you anytime you need me. if any of those two in the house push your buttons, you are free to come over for a night or so. just dont forget the B&Js

**Kurt Hummel**  
Thanks hun. You always make me feel better. We should have dinner next week.

**Mercedes Jones**  
yup I like the sound of that :) k my eyes are closing, I better go to bed

sleep soon and sleep tight baby

**Kurt Hummel**  
Love you, sleep tight too!

-.-.-.-.-.-

Kurt shuts his computer and looks back at his empty bed.

_Tomorrow_, he thinks. _Just a few hours away._

_I will love tomorrow – and beyond._


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Thank you to all who have read and reviewed so far! Do keep your comments coming, it's my pleasure to read and know what you think ^^

**Warning:** Implied sexual situations (in this chapter)

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE**

Kurt wakes up early to make breakfast pancakes. The warm, rich smell gets Blaine and Jamie up and going, and Blaine comes into the kitchen to give Kurt a deep, grateful kiss. Kurt's gaze darts to Jamie, who is sitting at the kitchen table staring blankly at them.

"I think our little guest is hungry," murmurs Kurt, against Blaine's lips.

"Mm... so am I..." whispers Blaine.

Kurt giggles, then shoves Blaine away lightly. "Get the sauces out, horny boy."

"I always like it saucy," says Blaine, with a wicked grin as he turns to the cupboard.

"Blaine," warns Kurt, "I'm in my good Sunday pants now. Don't be funny."

"Wow, you're in your Sunday pants making pancakes? That's a first."

"I had the idea of making breakfast only after I changed," admits Kurt. "Then there wasn't much time to change and get breakfast ready in time for you two to wake up to it." He delivers the plate of pancakes before Jamie. "There you go, sweetie."

"A man who reveres breakfast is a man to keep," says Blaine, bringing bottles of maple syrup and blueberry sauce over. "Which one do you want, kiddo?"

Kurt turns to pick the maple, but Jamie reaches out for it first. Blaine hands it over to Jamie with a grin, then offers Kurt the blueberry.

"So," says Kurt, pretending to be very invested in reading the ingredient list on the blueberry bottle. "What's our plan for today?"

"Well, I was thinking we need to get a few child-friendly items in the house, even if it's only for two weeks," says Blaine, as he helps cut up Jamie's pancakes into bits while she drizzles syrup all over. "Okay, Jamie, that's enough."

Jamie clutches at the bottle and a whole dollop of syrup comes out.

Blaine manages to pry her fingers away and steals some of her syrup, prompting her to scrunch up her face.

"Uh-oh," says Kurt, his eyes narrowed.

Jamie makes that strangled noise that Kurt immediately senses is the 'warning siren', but Blaine cleverly sticks a piece of pancake into her mouth. Her eyes widen and she chomps down on it.

When Jamie eyes the second piece and Blaine offers her the fork to let her spear it herself, Kurt is in awe. "How do you do it? It seems so effortless."

"It's trial and error most of the time," admits Blaine. "But once you know it, it's a lot easier because they're so used to routine and habit. If they like one thing, they like it. If they don't, they don't."

Kurt watches, slightly mesmerized, as Jamie stuffs the pancake in her mouth and chews. "Wow. For a moment I was about to say I wish people were that simple to read. But at the same time that just means they're not open to change and that's... well, that's not good," he finishes lamely.

"I like to think that they also have a way of doing things that might actually be better, just that we want to guide them so much that we think very little of it," says Blaine, then he straightens up to cut his own pancake where he has scooped some of Jamie's extra syrup on – then looks at Kurt's plate. "Do you... not like your own pancakes?"

Kurt puts on a most innocent smile and points to the maple syrup bottle.

"Oh, my bad!" Blaine hands him the syrup bottle.

However, just that small little action makes Jamie scrunch up her face again. This time, she's staring very hard at Kurt.

"No!"

Both of them stare at her.

"Okay," says Kurt, slowly. "That's proof that she can talk without being talked to."

"I think it's only when she's really worked up," says Blaine, though he looks surprised too. "Jamie, it's okay. Kurt likes maple syrup too."

"NO," Jamie says vehemently.

Kurt frowns. "Why not?"

When all Jamie does is to bang her spoon against the plate, Kurt offers her a piece of pancake. She refuses to eat it and continues to glare at him.

"I think I'm just going to sit in the living room to eat," says Kurt. "Cover me, Blaine, I'm taking that syrup by hook or by crook."

Blaine snorts in amusement, then leans over the kitchen counter to block Kurt from Jamie's sight. When Jamie sees that Kurt isn't there, she doesn't make any more sounds.

Kurt eats his pancakes in silence, his eyes trained on his reflection in the blank television screen before him. He steals a glance at Blaine and Jamie, and can't help remembering when Blaine had first asked him to move in with him. It had been six months after they had started dating, and Kurt wasn't really sure, especially when his father's health wasn't that great.

"I have lived with my father all my life," Kurt had said, "and every morning, it gives me strength to do the things I can whenever I see him wake up, fresh and happy. It's my greatest fear that when I wake up one morning, he's not there anymore. I just feel really weird if he and I... if we're not going to stay together anymore, you know?"

Blaine had taken his hand and said gently, "I always tell you that you're a very lucky guy to have a dad like Burt who loves you for who you are. But this time, I'm gonna tell you that Burt's a lucky man to have a son who loves him that much too."

Blaine hadn't said it, but Kurt knew that at that moment, it was clearer than ever that both of them wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. He had broached the topic of getting Blaine to stay in the Hummel household instead, but Burt threw a surprising spanner in the works – the woman he had been dating for the last year or so, Carole, had agreed to marry him, and she would move in.

"Dad, I'm so happy for you!" Kurt had gasped and hugged his father.

"I know, kiddo," his father had said, "And I want you to be happy too. You're twenty-six, you're all grown up and I want you to live your own life, have your own family, and not have to worry too much about me. I've got Carole to take care of me now."

"You're abandoning me now," teased Kurt, even though there was a hollow ache in him.

"I love you, Kurt," Burt had said firmly. "And I know you love that fine young man."

"He is a fine young man," Kurt had said shyly. "He reminds me of you, sometimes."

Burt had chortled. "Anderson has the manners of a fine English aristocrat and I'm just a straight-talkin' Midwestern dude, how does that mesh? Unless he has my secret love of greasy fries and burgers."

"Dad!" Kurt had admonished. "No... I meant that your capacities to love and care for people are just so – so overwhelmingly straightforward and pure. And to be the recipient of that kind of love from you two? I just – I just feel like nothing in this world is gonna come at me."

"You bet at it, son. We got your back."

The next day, Kurt had gone to sign the joint tenancy agreement with Blaine for Blaine's apartment.

And here they are now, two years later. His father and Carole have been doing well, still managing the tire shop that they have owned for decades and staying healthy, while he and Blaine have been living a simple, humble and loving life.

Kurt stares at his empty plate, then turns to look at Blaine again, who is now helping to clear up and teaching Jamie to stack the plates and arrange the cutlery neatly on top of it.

_I want you to be happy too. I want you to live your own life, have your own family._

"Nothing's gonna come at us," he whispers. "_Nothing_."

-.-.-.-.-.-

The Walmart in Lima always has a homely smell that Kurt finds endearing, but it's not enough to overcome his dislike of the crowds of people that are there on weekends. As condescending as it is to think this way, he'd much rather be in a crowd of snotty fashion designers in New York than shifty-eyed conservatives in Ohio. His sharp tongue can handle the razor blades of fashion critique, but still falls flat at the wispy murmurs of discomfort and disgust.

That's just when there's Kurt and Blaine. Now there's Kurt and Blaine _and_ a kid. A kid with two co-habiting gay men as babysitters. The horror! The travesty!

Blaine's hand rests on the small of his back, undoing the little knot of muscle there. Kurt sighs in relief.

"Will foam do?" asks Blaine. "To line the edge of our coffee table."

"Are you kidding?" Kurt groans. "That'll ruin the whole chic thing we've got going in the living room!"

"Kurt, it's just for two weeks. I don't think we're going to get Barbara Barry into our home anytime soon."

"I _am_ the Barbara Barry of our home."

Jamie makes an excited noise upon seeing the rows of sweets as they push the shopping cart along.

"She agrees!" Kurt exclaims in triumph.

Blaine pretends to look offended. "We _are_ getting that foam."

"You make Jamie sound like a baby. The edges of our table aren't even that sharp!"

Jamie starts to make 'ba-ba-ba' sounds at the sound of 'baby' and Blaine looks at her fondly.

"Her concept of danger is quite different, Kurt," he says, with a sigh. "I just want to make sure nothing goes wrong whilst she stays with us."

"Okay, but you need _cloth-wrapped _foam. I'm pretty sure they have one of those that look a lot less tacky." Kurt taps Blaine on the shoulder. "I, on the other hand, am going to find locks. _Lots and lots _of locks."

"For?"

"Can't have Jamie wandering around the house pulling open every drawer, can we?"

Jamie's voice is now louder than usual and she's making strange clicking noises with her tongue apart from the 'ba-ba-ba'. Some people are beginning to notice and Kurt frowns.

"Jamie," he whispers, placing a finger near her lips. "Quiet."

Jamie makes a rather explosive noise.

"Ah, not the best move when she wants to be in control here," says Blaine, apologetically while Kurt frowns. "BA BA BA," says Jamie, nodding.

"Jamie, we are in a store," says Blaine, lifting his finger to _his_ lips. "How do we behave in a store?"

Jamie immediately puts a finger on her lips and Kurt sighs in relief. However, it isn't long before Jamie begins her vocal percussion again.

"Has her speech regressed?" Kurt arches a stiff eyebrow.

"Of course not! She's just obsessed with that syllable, that's all. Kurt, go get the locks first. Jamie, honey, look here –"

"BA BA KKK BA BA –"

"Jesus," says Kurt, suddenly feeling very conscious when heads begin to turn. "Blaine, do something."

Blaine places a hand out, his expression stern. Jamie blinks a little, then starts to shout, "BA! BLAY! BLAYYY!"

"I thought you and Quinn said she's quiet!" Kurt hisses as he tries to catch Jamie's flailing hand.

"Kurt, relax!" Blaine holds his arm. "Jamie can sense agitation too."

"And so can everybody in Walmart." Kurt lowers his voice while glaring at a gaggle of women with deep furrowed eyebrows and disapproving lip curls. "Did you prep her before this?"

"Yes," says Blaine, who is still trying to draw Jamie's attention to his gesturing before he can speak to her. At the same time, Kurt can sense a slight tension in his voice. "The locks, Kurt, go get them before we never get anything from here."

Before Kurt can move, Jamie suddenly pushes past Blaine to grab at a display of water bottles. Blaine reacts a fraction of a second too late; a bunch of bottles come tumbling down onto the ground with a tremendous clatter.

Kurt's first reaction is, _thank God it isn't glass!_

"I will pick it!" Jamie announces loudly, and for the first time, Kurt notices she has amazing enunciation for a five-year-old. "Let me down!"

Kurt recovers from his surprise to pick up the bottles while Blaine clasps Jamie's hands together and warns her about touching things. But Kurt isn't paying attention to what Blaine is saying; all he can hear is the group of ladies whispering,

_" –what you get for being so blatant. How could they? And the poor kid!"_

_"Really, the kid suffers when their parents are so irresponsible."_

_"Bringing her into the world to suffer God's wrath, it's so painful..."_

"Excuse me?" Kurt stands up straight, water bottles in hand. "Did you say something?"

It's not that he wants to create a scene. He would much rather stalk down the aisles, ditch all shopping propriety and grab the things he needs without a second glance, and leave the place. What he absolutely hates more than just plain stupid homophobia, is when people use religion to logically support the case of retribution. It's senseless and baseless. Even though Kurt is atheistic, he respects that people find solace and strength all at once in their God, so when they use God's name to justify their hatred for a faceless stranger who happens to be gay, it just stirs up an irrational rage in him.

The ladies give him a rather disgruntled look, then make to leave.

"You don't have to huddle there, you can just step up and say it."

"Kurt –" Blaine begins.

"God hears you whether you're yelling through a loudhailer at an anti-gay rights movement or when you're whispering in those sneaky and squeaky little voices you have!" says Kurt, his anger growing with his every word. "Meanwhile, you can recite all your Bible verses as evidence to support, just don't forget to quote the verse numbers and the year that they were said in to be approved by academic journals!"

None of them say a word while the cheery store music plays on, a completely dissonant background. Jamie doesn't help by loudly announcing, "Go. Let's go!"

The ladies leave; typical of the residents here. None of them would dare to make a ruckus out of their staunch beliefs, even though the backhanded comments and side eyes are damaging enough.

"I hate it here," hisses Kurt, as he stuffs the bottles back onto the shelf. "If it wasn't for my father, I wouldn't be staying in Lima a second longer."

"Go!" Jamie chimes in.

"Yes, we'll go!" Kurt glares at her.

"Kurt!" Blaine takes hold of his arm. "Don't take it out on her!"

"Well, maybe I'll take it out on you instead for deciding to come here, ruining a perfectly good weekend!" snaps Kurt.

Blaine lets out a frustrated noise. "Kurt, it's not like you don't know what it's like here. Come _on_, you've never let this get to you! Why are you –"

"I've spent my _entire_ life living in this town and having people judge the hell out of me because of my voice, my looks..." Kurt whispers, his voice trembling. "And then my sexuality and my job and basically everything that I deserve to be proud of having, I've been trampled upon for having them. Now I'm bringing both my boyfriend and a kid in here and I feel like I'm being thrown into hell just with those horrible looks on their faces... so _forgive_ me if I'm being _overly_ sensitive for just wanting a peaceful day out!"

Blaine stares at him for a while, then shakes his head. "Let's talk this through at home. We're scaring Jamie here."

Kurt's eyes flash. "You, of all people, should understand."

"We're not discussing this here!" Blaine looks at him incredulously. "Please!"

"That's it," says Kurt. He fishes out his car key from his pocket and dumps it into Blaine's hand. "Don't wait for me. I'll be late."

"Kurt."

"I'm going to my dad's for dinner," says Kurt, crisply. "I need positive mojo right now."

"Kurt!" Blaine grabs his arm, but he shakes it off. Then he turns and leaves without looking back, even though Blaine calls out to him one more time.

Kurt doesn't care that he has to splurge to take a cab all the way to his dad's place, which is at the other end of Lima. He just wants to get away from Walmart and go back to something comfortable and homey.

A few minutes into the ride and he's inwardly berating himself for making such a fuss. He still stands by what he thinks about many of the Lima residents, but he knows he has hurt Blaine badly by the things that he said. Of all people, Blaine should know best what it feels like to be judged for his sexuality, and Kurt suddenly feels so small and horrible.

He knows he is incredibly lucky to have a father who accepts him for who he is, and best friends who judge him for everything except his sexuality. At the same time, however, the reason why his support group accepts him is because acceptance comes with understanding and often, it needs a personal kind of understanding.

It's only been two days. He wonders if he's ever going to develop that kind of understanding with Jamie.

Or – or maybe – even Blaine.

-.-.-.-.-.-

"Kurt" Carole squeals once she opens the door, and flings her arms round him. "Why didn't you call?!"

"I wanted to give you guys a surprise," says Kurt, grinning as he steps inside the house. Comfortable and homey indeed. "I smell something good. Grilled halibut?"

"Oh, nothing escapes that sharp nose of yours," says Carole, tapping him on the nose. Then she looks woebegone. "But I only cooked for Burt and myself..."

"Don't worry," says Kurt. "I'll whip up something with whatever you have in the fridge."

Before Carole can comment further, Burt comes running down the stairs, hollering, "Is my boy back?"

"Dad! Don't run down the stairs like that!" Kurt gapes in horror.

"Well, if I have my son around to nurse me over a bunch of broken bones, I don't think that's too bad an idea," says Burt, as he envelops Kurt with a big hug.

"First of all, stop guilt-tripping me that I haven't been back often enough," says Kurt, clinging on tightly to his father. "Second of all, don't you dare suggest that any part of you will be broken."

"Alright, alright," says Carole, once Burt has let Kurt go. "Let the boy make his dinner and we can settle down to a good dinner!"

"And third of all, don't suggest that Carole doesn't do a fine job of nursing you!" Kurt grins while Carole waves a mocking finger at Burt.

Burt laughs heartily. "Okay, I take that all back. Whatever the frequency of your visits, it just makes me really happy to see you back. I'm fine and well, all thanks to Carole. That covers it all, doesn't it?"

Kurt throws his father a look that he hopes conveys annoyance and affection all at once.

"Where's Blaine, by the way?" asks Carole, as she hands the apron over to Kurt.

Kurt tenses for a fraction of a second, then smiles. "He's busy taking care of a kid at home."

Both Burt and Carole's smiles disappear as they exchange looks. "A kid?" Burt asks. "At home?"

Kurt takes out some eggs and vegetables from the fridge. "Yeah. Sorry I didn't tell you guys this earlier, but it just happened over the last couple of days so I haven't had time. We're helping to care for a little girl from the LAC while the Center helps to find her a permanent handler. She was sent over from the orphanage."

Silence.

"Oh, Kurt..." says Carole. "How old is she?"

"About five."

"Kurt."

Kurt cracks the eggs into the sizzling pan.

"Kurt," Burt repeats. "Something's wrong."

Kurt knows he can't hide anything from his dad, but he pretends that he can't hear Burt over the frying of his sunny side up. He busies himself with making a simple salad at the side, then finally serves his food at the table where Burt and Carole have their fish fillets before them. "Oh, why didn't you guys start eating? It's all cold now!"

Burt gives him a knowing look. "You took a taxi here instead of driving the car here."

"Blaine has to go buy stuff for her, he needs the car."

"And you decided to come here alone instead of following him?"

"Dad," says Kurt, mockingly. "Do I need a reason to come visit you?"

"No, but you need a reason as to why you are obviously upset about something."

Kurt sits down hard. "Well, it's just not that simple taking care of Jamie."

"And you're having disagreements with Blaine because of that?"

"Dad, it's not like that."

"I treat that boy like my son and I'd like to think I know him like my son too, even if it's only been two years," says Burt. "He's got a way with kids because he's got the heart for them."

"I'd like to think I do have the heart for them too," mutters Kurt, poking at his salad with a fork.

"So what's the issue then?"

Kurt doesn't really know what to say. He's not even sure he knows what the issue is. All he knows is that he's tired, unhappy and worst of all, guilty. "It just happened all so suddenly, that's all. I'm not sure if I can handle it."

"Oh honey," says Carole, gently. "It's definitely not easy when you two have been living together all this while and then suddenly, there's a new addition to the family."

"Are you jealous of Blaine giving attention to the girl?" asks Burt, suddenly looking rather amused.

Kurt makes a face. "Ha. If I was, I'd have dragged him here and left Jamie with – with, I dunno, the neighbor or something." Burt isn't convinced, so he adds, "Blaine can help prep her better for a lot of new things. I just thought I'd come over and say hi and let you guys know. Just in case Jamie picks up the phone for some reason or another and you get a shock."

His dad still looks doubtful, but thankfully, Carole cuts in to say, "Well, I'm sure the two of you will work something out." She takes Kurt's hand. "Just be a little bit more patient and understanding and it will work wonders."

"Kurt, we just want you to be happy," says his father, sincerely. "You let us know if Anderson takes you for granted and I'll drive over and give him a piece of my mind."

Kurt smiles. "I know you'll always back me up, Dad, and I think Blaine knows how handy you are with your tools. Don't worry. We're good."

He doesn't mention the Walmart incident at all throughout dinner. He doesn't mention that they have been kept busy with trying to settle Jamie in that they haven't managed to communicate this to anyone else except Quinn Fabray and those awful old ladies at Walmart. He just switches topics comfortably to the tire shop, Burt's diet and lifestyle, how Carole can create a brand new wardrobe based on the latest trends... he lets himself be the child in the household again, not having to make any decisions or think too much beyond making snarky, witty comments on everything.

When the time comes for him to leave, he looks at his phone and debates whether he should ask Blaine to come fetch him. But he doesn't have to mull over that too long; Burt volunteers to send him home.

"Dad..."

"You stopped giving me the chance to drive you around after your sixteenth birthday," says Burt. "One of my greatest regrets is giving you that car. Let me undo a bit of that regret, yea?"

He winks at Kurt, who can't help smiling despite tears stinging his eyes as he hugs Burt. His gaze meets Carole's, and she mouths, 'I'll take care of him'.

He gives her a fierce hug.

On the drive back, Kurt turns the stereo up. Sure enough, Burt doesn't say anything – not until he's driven up to Kurt's apartment doorstep. Then he turns the stereo off and looks at Kurt. "You gotta talk to him, you know. Everything that you're afraid of."

"That's easier said than done," says Kurt, picking at the buttons on his jacket.

Burt places a firm hand on Kurt's shoulder. "There are times when I'm so grateful that you're so strong, Kurt. You put me to shame when your mom died... you held it together, you made sure everything was taken care of even while I was in a mess. And you were just a kid then. Now you're all grown up, you've got a place of your own, a family to call your own... sure, you're a man of the house, but you don't have to take it all on your shoulders and act like it doesn't matter. Remember what I always said?"

Kurt bites hard on his bottom lip before murmuring, "Yeah. I matter."

"That's right, kid. You remember that well and good," says Burt, firmly.

Kurt smiles. "I know, Dad. Thanks."

"I wish you knew it better," says Burt, with a sigh. "Now get in there. Goodnight, Kurt."

Kurt hugs him one more time, then gets out of the car. He watches as his dad drives off into the night, his heart aching more than ever.

-.-.-.-.-.-

When Kurt steps into the flat, he finds Blaine sitting at the kitchen table with a laptop before him. Blaine immediately sits up straight, then looks back at the computer intently and does a little shoulder shrug and eyebrow raise.

"Is that Tina on Skype?" asks Kurt, wearily.

"_How did you know?_" comes the voice from the computer. "_You can't even see the screen!_"

Blaine cracks a small smile as Kurt harrumphs. "Well, young lady, Blaine Anderson doesn't do covert body language with just _anyone_."

"_Aw, I'm touched!_" exclaims Tina. "_Blaine has a secret code just for me!_"

Blaine bobs his head lightly.

"_Kurt, we should Skype again soon._"

"What, can't spare time for me now, Miss Cohen-Chang?" Kurt hangs up his coat and walks over, hands on his hips.

"_I need to go make dinner. Artie's gonna be back soon._" Tina waves as Kurt comes into view of the camera. "_You have supper in the microwave, by the way_."

Kurt just has time to squeeze in a quick 'bye!' after Tina rattles off '_I love you both!_' and the Skype screen turns blank. Blaine quickly shuts the computer and heads towards the microwave.

"You ordered takeout?" asks Kurt, quietly.

Blaine jerks his head towards the Creative Room, where the door is shut. "She got a bit restless, so I quickly bought her some toys, grabbed Chinese food and came home. Then she got tired out and fell asleep." He goes back to getting the cutlery and plate ready, then turns to the microwave. "Thought you might want some supper too."

"Hey," says Kurt. "Leave the food for a bit, will you?"

Blaine's hand freezes on the microwave. He turns back to look at Kurt, and Kurt can't help but sigh miserably at the expression on his face. "Oh, come here, Blaine."

Without a word, Blaine crosses over to Kurt and meets his embrace tightly. Kurt can feel Blaine's body quivering; his hands rub all over Blaine's back soothingly.

"I hate–"

"We can't–"

Kurt immediately pulls back and holds Blaine back at arm's length. "Me first."

Blaine smirks through his tears. "I don't know if it's a good thing that we're all starting out with negative words."

Kurt rolls his eyes. "We're both not sorry, that's why."

Blaine hangs his head. "Yeah."

Kurt sighs. "I hate – getting mad at you. We haven't really gotten _that _mad at each other for the last two years and – " He feels Blaine tense under his hands. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not mad at Jamie either. I just feel like having her here is making us so edgy in so many different ways, it's so hard to talk about them all and reconcile everything. I don't mean to belittle anything that you think or feel or want to do for Jamie. If I made you feel that way, then I'm sorry. But I'm not sorry for getting mad at Walmart because I just felt it's so frustrating to hear people passing judgments on our lives which has just undergone a major change in the last day or so."

When he finishes that, he's almost breathless. Blaine can't help smiling. "Did Burt give you one of his inspirational daddy talks again?"

Kurt mirrors his expression. "You know I can't get out of those without falling to pieces inside. Did whatever I say even make sense?"

Blaine places a hand on Kurt's chest and rubs it tenderly. "Damn. I'm sorry for being judgmental myself. I judged you too quickly for your frustrations. It _is_ a major change, especially for you, and I didn't take it seriously enough."

"Then what are you not sorry for?" mutters Kurt, leaning his forehead against Blaine's.

"For being mad at you for taking it out on Jamie," says Blaine, honestly. "It's not even an issue whether it's in public or at home. I know it demands a hell lot of patience and it's a lot to ask for someone who doesn't – I mean, I know Sugar works in your office, but she's at the higher-functioning end of the autism spectrum which means she's got a lot more control and understanding of her situation..." Kurt has to fight hard not to snort. "It definitely is a lot to ask for someone who doesn't meet with autistic kids on a regular basis. But Jamie's ability to sense her situation and act appropriately is still at its infancy stage. That's what she's at the LAC for. That's what we as therapists will help her through. It takes all hands to clap in all surroundings that Jamie is in to guide her. I need you to see that, otherwise it'll be a very difficult time for all of us."

When Kurt doesn't respond, Blaine leans back worriedly. "Kurt, I promise that you aren't going to be alone in this. I got you into this and I'll walk with you through it."

Kurt tilts his head to the side. "Do you know how I see the end of our lives?"

"How?"

"Just like in The Notebook," says Kurt, in a low voice. "Us sitting next to each other in a nursing home, talking to others endlessly about our first loves, going on and on about every single detail as if they matter. And then we'll turn to each other and we'll hold hands and know that no matter what has happened in our lives, who has come into our lives, at the end of it all, we're still together."

Blaine wrinkles up his nose. "Wow, we'd be such cantankerous old men with the vicious lives that we live, that I don't see ourselves telling such cheesy stories... we'd just be trading insults all the time and when the nurses have to come in and ask what's the matter with us, we'd be like 'oh, c'mon, it'd be such a waste of manpower if we sat here gazing adoringly at each other and you guys weren't needed.'"

Kurt does snort now. "Your idea of romance is so unappealing that it's real."

He pauses, before adding, "You know I always get carried away with the happy, fanciful and pretty things in life because they are so far and few. I get so defensive whenever there're signs that these things might vanish."

"Let's try again?" Blaine whispers.

Kurt nods, and Blaine leans forward to kiss him, and he can taste salt and feel Blaine's wet cheeks. Neither of them pull back, however, and Kurt deepens the kiss by pulling Blaine flush against him, the supper all forgotten. Very soon, they've ended up on their bed with Kurt staring up at Blaine, his desire growing with Blaine's intense gaze boring into his eyes.

"I miss you," he whispers.

"It was just one night," says Blaine, smiling. "But so did I."

"If you're not there, she'll stay fast asleep?" Kurt asks.

Blaine laughs softly as he slips his hand under Kurt's shirt, sending goosebumps all over Kurt as fingers smooth over skin. "I hope so. We'll just have to keep it down then."

"Ha, look who's talking, Anderson," says Kurt, slyly as he unbuttons Blaine's shirt. "Seem to recall somebody has a penchant for moaning and calling out my name at a particularly high level of decibels –"

"Shut. Up." Blaine silences him with a deep kiss. Kurt lets out a gasp when Blaine breaks for air to murmur,

"Are your Sunday pants still on?"

"Oh my God," groans Kurt. "Now you have to shut up."

"If she does wake, don't kill me," whispers Blaine, as he trails his nose and down the side of Kurt's neck and then plants reverent kisses along his collarbone.

Kurt closes his eyes and briefly thinks that if Jamie does wake up at this point, there's no way he's going to be feeling sorry about anything anymore. Then he trails his fingers down Blaine's bare back, and just loses himself in Blaine's kisses and caresses for the rest of the night.


	5. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

For the rest of the week, Kurt spends lunchtime at work trying to read up more on the condition of autism, children with autism and autism management. Blaine and Tina have shared stories with him before, and with all the information that he has now, he is really confused. For example, he's not sure whether he is supposed to use a child's favorite item to calm her down before trying to reason things out, or to remain firm and calm the child down using behavioral cues. In the end, he thinks that there's no way he's going to be convincing trying to use behavioral cues, so he'll just have to bribe Jamie anytime she acts up.

It's not so black and white at home, especially when Jamie takes out a crayon and starts doodling on the marble kitchen-top when Blaine isn't looking, much to Kurt's horror. He almost wants to give up and tell Blaine, but when he eventually decides to slip a piece of paper to Jamie to distract her and it actually works, he thinks _maybe it's okay, just maybe_.

One day, Kurt's halfway through reading an article on his work computer written by an autistic person about what an average day for them is like, when somebody just saunters into his office. He looks up in annoyance. "Sugar, you should knock before you come in."

Sugar stares at him, then she walks back to the door to knock it. Before Kurt can say anything, she walks back over and sits down before him.

Kurt narrows his eyes at her. He may not be the top dog at this firm, but he is still respected by all the others as one of the quicker and more creative thinking young designers. He was the only one in his batch who managed to be promoted to 'Senior Designer' over the last few years and had a room of his own. It's bad enough that Kewell still treats him like a clueless newbie, and now Sugar isn't taking him seriously either.

He mentally slaps himself for getting annoyed so easily. He hardly even talks to Sugar; it's a wonder she is here in the first place. "So... how may I help you?"

"I don't need help," says Sugar. "I'm bored and there's nobody to talk to."

Kurt leans back in his chair, his eyes flickering back-and-forth the article and Sugar. He's not really sure he wants to engage in conversation with Sugar, but decides to go with, "Why didn't you join the rest for lunch?"

"I never join them," says Sugar, immediately.

Kurt looks at his half-eaten burrito before him. "Oh. Uh. Did you have your lunch?"

"I ate a sandwich." Sugar frowns. "Food is boring. Talk about something else."

Kurt snorts. "Sugar, you're the one who's bored. You can initiate a conversation about something you want to talk about."

She reaches over and picks a photo frame off Kurt's desk before he can protest. "That's Blaine," she says, jabbing at the photo.

Kurt raises his eyebrows. "You remember him?"

"He's the music therapist at the LAC. I like him," says Sugar. Then she leans over and in a conspiratorial whisper, she adds, "I used to love him."

Kurt backs away from her so fast that he nearly bangs his head against the wall behind him. "..._what?_"

Sugar puts the photo frame down. "He's very nice to me. He asks me how my day is and looks at my designs and says nice things about them. He never laughs at me like all the people here do. And he always smiles and looks so handsome." She pauses, then nods seriously. "He has a nice butt too."

Kurt can't help laughing. He knows fully well the kind of vibes that Blaine sends to straight girls, and Blaine pretty much knows himself. The story of how Blaine ended up drunk French kissing an ex-colleague during the LAC's dinner-and-dance still tickles him immensely.

"I was obsessed with the taste of her rose lipstick," Blaine had added defensively after he had related the story, as Kurt dissolved into giggles next to him. "Besides, how can you not be turned on by somebody who wants to have 'vaguely Eurasian babies' with you? It's a massive compliment to my gene pool and I'm proud of it. And can you stop giggling? Oh my God."

Kurt sobers when he sees that Sugar is now staring impassively at him. "Sugar, you do know... that Blaine is gay, right?"

"He told me when we were at the LAC," says Sugar. "It's okay. Anyway, I think blond guys with almond-shaped blue eyes are cuter now."

Kurt suddenly thinks that Sugar might actually be a good fellow Vogue model-critic.

"But you don't think so," Sugar continues, tilting her head slightly. "You and Blaine are boyfriends."

Again, Kurt can't help but smile. It's so surprisingly refreshing to hear a lack of emotion behind the word 'boyfriends' that it's almost comforting. "Yeah."

"That's so nice. You're not like everyone else, but you have somebody who is like you."

"Sorry, I don't follow you...?"

Sugar doesn't answer him; she idly plays with a mini-tie that Kurt hangs on a mini-fashion model on his desk.

"Sugar?"

"Have you been to the LAC before?" she asks, still staring at the tie.

"Um, yeah?"

"I am like everyone else in there, but we are not like everyone else out there," Sugar continues to say cryptically. Then she gets up. "Thank you for the conversation, I had a nice time."

Kurt stares at her. "Um, okay, me too."

"I think that red doesn't go very well with the purple," she says, pointing at a rough sketch Kurt has done at the corner of his desk. "Try green."

"Green?"

To his surprise, Sugar smiles – the first time he has ever seen her smile, and she looks incredibly sweet when she does so. "Yes, green."

With that, she leaves, and Kurt looks at his computer screen, where the author has written,

_Sometimes I feel like the mirror in my room is fake. The person I see in it is not the person other people see. Otherwise, I don't understand what is so strange about the girl in the mirror that makes people say or do things differently about her. I try to tell them that I want to be friends, but when I hold out my hand and smile, they laugh at me. My therapist told me to smile more, but I don't want to anymore because it doesn't make friends. I don't know whether autism means that I'm missing something or that I have too much of something. I don't know whether it is really because of autism that everything around me feels strange or it is because of me as a person. It is not till twenty years later that I see things a bit more clearly, that I am not defined by my condition and that it is a constant learning process for both me and the other people out there. But when I was twelve, it was a game where I was the only player and it sucked._

Kurt swivels his chair slightly to face a full-length mirror he has in the corner of his office. For a moment, he sees a little boy of twelve clad in a simple black coat and pants with no frills, his wide eyes a dull shade of blue and his bottom lip quivering. Then he blinks, and he sees himself in fitted blue shirt and patterned pants, with brilliant blue-green eyes and a firm set jaw.

Suddenly, he knows exactly what Sugar meant.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Every day this week, when Kurt comes home from work, he's greeted by the sight of Jamie drawing circles on the drawing block. Yesterday he did think, _Thank God it isn't the marble kitchen top_, but mostly it just makes him feel a little awkward since it reminds him of the very first day he met Jamie. He usually just says 'hi' and walks straight to his room. He's tired after all; if she stabs him with a color pencil again, it won't be a pretty situation for both of them.

Today, however, the way she is so focused on drawing makes him rather curious. He walks over to the sofa and puts his briefcase on it. Then he rounds the table and kneels opposite her.

"Hi, Jamie!"

She closes the loop of a circle and starts on another.

The first step to having any form of civil communication with the girl would for her to acknowledge him. Yet, for all that he has read up on, Kurt still feels apprehensive about trying to distract Jamie with visuals or even simple touching of her hand. As if to remind him, the back of his hand throbs inexplicably.

Kurt casts a quick glance at Blaine, who is busy preparing soup in the kitchen. Then he draws a deep breath and begins to hum a tune. Eventually, he starts to sing along,

_Who cares what they're wearing  
On Main Street or Saville Row  
It's what you wear from ear to ear  
And not from head to toe_

A soft harmony chimes in – Blaine divests himself of the apron and walks over, his light, jazzy voice weaving a refreshing tune over Kurt's.

_Remember,  
You're never fully dressed without a smile!_

Blaine sits down and looks expectantly at Jamie, who is still drawing.

Kurt eventually stops singing and sighs. "It doesn't work."

Blaine smiles. "As I said, trial and error. Maybe it's because I work with her at music lessons so she associates music with me."

"And what would she associate with me?" asks Kurt. "Clearly not drawing."

"Kurt, you'll be surprised at what kids think of us," says Blaine, with a light laugh. He has unconsciously placed his hand next to Jamie's, and she immediately slips her left hand into his without pausing in her drawing.

Kurt swallows hard. It's nearing the end of one week and he isn't getting any closer to knowing more about Jamie or getting her to be comfortable with him. He's tired trying to squeeze the creative juices out of his brain so that he can come out with a stellar new collection to shut Kewell up, and yet he can't complain because Blaine has his hands full what with managing kids in school and trying to get Jamie relatively adjusted (and yet not overly attached) to her new place. He misses Blaine in his bed (save for that one night) and he misses sitting on the couch with him at the end of the day just chilling out on trashy reality shows. Now, every night, Blaine has to prepare Jamie for bed with a story and prep her in advance for what happens the next day, like what she is having for breakfast and what dress she is wearing to school. He knows it's exhausting for Blaine and it's exhausting for himself to watch it go on.

In short, he's still not used to the little girl being around.

He decides to push the conversation in a different direction. "Are you still planning to record that acoustic cover of 'Teenage Dream' that you've been working on? I've been waiting for what, five months already?"

Blaine gives him a rather strange look, then pulls his hand out of Jamie and leans back on the sofa. "I... I haven't exactly practiced in a long while."

"I know," says Kurt, pointedly. "That's what I meant. You were so enthusiastic about it once you had completed the re-arrangement and it's really good! You should get that dusty YouTube channel of yours up and running again. I visited it some days back and people are clamoring for you to do another video."

He still remembers when Blaine would come running out of the Creative Room waving sheet music and yelling at Kurt to come listen to his latest re-arrangement of a hit song. He loves the way Blaine's eyes shines every time they track the YouTube comments and statistics together. The view count literally goes into the hundreds of thousands, and Kurt is more than convinced that Blaine could easily release an independent EP of his own and get it into the iTunes charts.

Instead, Blaine just stares at his hands. He runs his nails across the pad of his fingers. "It'll take some time for my callus to grow again."

"You can play the keyboard instead of the guitar then," says Kurt, at once.

"Kurt," says Blaine, and the weariness in his voice is evident. "Let's have dinner before the soup gets cold."

And once again, the conversation is cut off by dinner. Kurt isn't quite sure if his exasperation is showing, but he somehow hope it does, even if Blaine is pretending not to notice it.

"Dinner time, Jamie," says Blaine, gently, and the girl puts her color pencil down immediately. She looks up to stare at Kurt, then gets up and follows Blaine. Kurt sits where he is for just a few minutes longer, watching as Blaine scoops the soup into bowls and Jamie clambers onto the chair to get a better vantage point of the whole process. She excitedly points at the ladle and Blaine laughs. He whispers to her and she says, "More" loudly.

Kurt looks back at the drawing block and remembers what he read this morning. _I don't know whether it is really because of autism that everything around me feels strange or it is because of me as a person._

_Strangely enough,_ he thinks, _it doesn't take autism for a person to feel that way._

-.-.-.-.-.-

On Friday, Kurt takes the entire day off work and heads to the LAC.

Every time Kurt comes to the LAC, he's either with Blaine or waiting for Blaine at the carpark. This time, the compound feels so unfamiliar now that Blaine is not in the equation. He straightens his skinny tie, then makes his way to the lobby area. The security guard there arches an eyebrow at him.

"Whaddya want, kid?"

Kurt frowns. "I'm twenty-eight."

"Still a kid ter me. Who're yer lookin' fer?"

"I'm uh, here to uh, observe a child's lesson. You know Jamie Chase?"

"I know every single one of 'em," says the guard, proudly. "Ain't she the prettiest of 'em all." He points to the far end of the compound. "Them kids be there."

Kurt bristles at having been compared to (and therefore infantilized by the category of) 'kids', but manages to politely thank the guard and head towards his destination. On the way, however, he meets a familiar face - it's Mike Chang, the LAC's sports therapist.

"Kurt!" Mike exclaims from a distance. "Wow, you're really early."

Kurt hasn't seen Mike often, not since Tina broke up with him (to be with Artie, but that's just far too sensitive). It's always rather awkward meeting him ever since and Kurt usually just greets with him a simple nod and smile. Now he actually has to speak to him.

"Hey, Mike," says Kurt, with a bright smile. "I'm actually… not here for Blaine."

Mike instantly looks confused.

"I'm here for Jamie Chase," says Kurt, but he doesn't have to explain further when recognition dawns upon Mike.

"Right!" Mike grins. "The kid's staying with you, isn't she?"

Kurt tilts his head slightly, then says politely, "I just wanted to see how she does during therapy and class and all that. Is that okay?"

"Why, sure," says Mike. "I believe she's in Blaine's class now, actually."

Kurt raises his eyebrows. Considering he has never really seen Blaine in the classroom setting before, this could be a good opportunity to observe _both_ of them.

Mike has no more lessons for the day, so he brings Kurt over to the kids' side, at the same time pointing out some of the facilities that they have and some of the children's artworks and writings on the wall. Kurt is particularly impressed by one picture that is covered completely with pencil drawings of cute (and by cute, Kurt means like cartoonist-standard cute and not little kid drawing-standard cute) animals squashed together which Mike adds was done by a seven-year-old in less than ten minutes. He briefly wonders what Sugar would have drawn at the age of seven, and then whether Jamie would be able to draw anything else other than circles.

Eventually, they stop by Blaine's classroom where he is teaching the kids how to sing 'Home On The Range'. Kurt peers through the window and can't help smiling. Blaine is holding up a pop-up picture of a farm range set against a sunset backdrop with stick-on pictures of buffalo, deer, antelope and a farmer, while a few kids surround him to pick at the pictures. They are rather restless, singing off-key and looking all around. Only one of them is actually singing along properly; the other two are more interested in the pictures and are pretty much singing gibberish, but Blaine doesn't seem to mind as he continues singing,

_Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam  
Where the deer and the antelope play_

Seated on the floor is a boy who is completely not paying attention. He keeps shaking his head and blowing bubbles out of his mouth, but instead of going over to get his attention, Blaine gently reaches out to one of the girls who's talking loudly to herself and holds her hand. She immediately stops talking and Blaine tells her in a slow but crisp way,

"Ida, can you teach Ryan to let the deer and antelope play? You can sing for him."

The girl immediately goes to the boy and holds out both her hands. "Please let the deer and antelope play. I will sing for you."

When Ryan doesn't respond, Blaine gently reminds Ida, "Hold his hands."

She squats before Ryan and gently reaches out for his hands. She repeats her request, but this time she tugs at his hands such that he actually gets up and follows her. She hands him the deer and antelope pictures, all the while saying a lot of other random things, but surprisingly, Ryan follows her instructions and moves the deer and antelope according to Blaine's singing (Ida had decided she wanted to continue talking instead of singing).

_Where seldom is heard, a discouraging word  
And the skies are not cloudy all day_

"Blaine's one of the best in the Center at empowerment," whispers Mike. "That's why Sue thought he was best suited to teach the kids. Through music as a medium, he gets the ones who connect easily with aesthetics to reach out to the others who aren't so quick to do so. It hones the socialisation skills of the higher-functioning kids and also provides a connection with the lower-functioning kids who may not click so easily with adults."

"It's amazing," Kurt whispers back, his eyes trained on Blaine who is somehow able to take his time to give each kid some attention time even while the others are engaged in other forms of distractions. "_He's_amazing."

"Aren't you here to see Jamie, not Blaine?" asks Mike, amused.

Kurt blushes. He cranes his neck to see Jamie huddled next to a table in the foreground. "Eh, what's she doing there? How come Blaine isn't focusing on her?"

"It might be a time-out," says Mike. "It's when the kid has significantly lost focus and is given something he or she likes for a time period, like two minutes, so as to regain focus. Usually when the time is up, the kid will automatically go back to the main activity. Look, she has a timer with her."

Sure enough, there is a timer next to Jamie and Kurt notices that she's busy drawing on a drawing pad. Circles again.

"She will just stop?"

"Wait and see."

Kurt's gaze drifts back to Blaine, who has distributed the pictures to each of the kids and asks them to sing the song while putting the pictures in place. Kurt thinks the instructions seem complicated, not least when the kids start to wander away from the board and start to play with their pictures. Yet somehow Blaine manages to catch their attention the moment he sings the first note, which perks up the kids immediately. Within a few seconds, they start singing along and turn around to walk over to the picture board to stick their pictures.

_Home, home on the range  
Where the deer and the antelope play  
Where seldom is heard, a discouraging word  
And the skies are not cloudy all day_

"It's like a jigsaw puzzle," explains Mike. "Blaine has associated the song with the pictures and how they form a larger story, so the kids are now focusing on placing the pictures to form the story. The music is actually a subtle undercurrent to help them remember."

"It's like conditioning," says Kurt, skeptically.

"In a way," says Mike, grinning.

"And Blaine..." It dawns upon Kurt. "He's not really _teaching_ music, is he? You said he uses music as a medium, and I suppose it's to guide them to piece things together?"

"It's a powerful medium," says Mike. "Just like how I use physical activities to work with both the kids and adults. You see... at the LAC, we use a three-pronged method of kinaesthetic, aesthetic and visual cues and mediums to develop the participants' understanding and encourage their expression. At the adult level, we tone it down to about one or two prongs, depending on the individual, because their learning curve and scope tends to be a little more rigid. But for the kids, we try to engage them from all angles."

Then Mike laughs sheepishly. "Sorry, I sound like a walking advertisement for the LAC. Sue had us all memorise our whole philosophy and like, literally write it out on paper a hundred times. All the trees we killed... and the brain cells!"

Kurt suddenly feels rather small. It is only now that he realizes the true meaning of Blaine's dedication to his work. Even though he is passionate about music, his role at the LAC has not been so much as to impart his skills and knowledge of music to the children, but to use his passion for music to supplement his desire to grow the kids in many other ways – to use it as a channel to inspire the kids. The knowledge of why Blaine has always refused to become a musician or a general music teacher in favor of teaching the autistic kids is so overwhelming that Kurt has to clutch at his chest.

_How often at night where the heavens are bright  
With the light of the glittering stars  
Have I stood there amazed and asked as I gazed  
If their glory exceeds that of ours_

"You okay?" asks Mike.

"Yeah," whispers Kurt, even though his eyes feel a little wet.

Blaine catches sight of them and gives a little wink and smile. Just then, the timer beside Jamie goes off and Kurt jumps a little. Just as Mike said, Jamie puts aside her drawing and colour pencil, gets up, walks over to Blaine and sits down before him.

"Wow," is all Kurt can manage.

Mike checks his watch. "About five minutes to the end of lesson. If you don't mind, I'll make a move first – I need to –"

"Yeah, sure," says Kurt, at once. He smiles. "Thanks for taking time out to explain stuff to me, Mike. That was incredibly helpful of you."

Mike looks slightly awkward. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to –" He laughs nervously. "Not trying to make up for anything."

Kurt is confused for a moment. Then he realizes what Mike is trying to say and his eyes widen. "Don't be silly, it wasn't your fault. Tina always told Mercedes and I how amazing a man you were, and you treated her right." He reaches out to pat Mike's shoulder. "I guess it just wasn't meant to be."

Mike looks at him gratefully. "I'm good, no worries. Right, I'll leave you here then. All the best!"

Kurt waves goodbye, then looks back at the classroom where Blaine is getting the kids to tidy the place up. Jamie is methodically shifting all the mini-chairs into a particular position, and she occasionally lets out a cry when somebody else knocks a chair out of place.

"Goodbye, children!" Blaine calls out.

"Goodbye, Mr. Anderson!" Two of them chorus, while Ryan is mumbling to himself as he packs his bag. Jamie is still concentrating on the chairs, so Blaine walks over and blocks the next chair from her line of sight. "Goodbye, Jamie," he says firmly.

Kurt briefly wonders if it's confusing that Jamie should say goodbye to someone who would be bringing her home, but to his surprise, she replies in a steady voice,

"Goodbye, Mr. Anderson," before circling Blaine to push the chair in.

"Does she call you that at home?" Kurt can't resist asking as he walks into the classroom. "I don't remember hearing her use that."

"Eh?" Blaine is caught off-guard for a bit, then he shrugs. "I haven't actually got her to call me at home yet. But she was told to call me Mr. Anderson from the very first day. She hasn't used it at home."

Kurt bends over. "Hi, Jamie."

As usual, Jamie doesn't seem to notice him. Suddenly, he feels a surge of courage and reaches out to touch her wrist and angles his head slightly to catch her attention. "Hi, Jamie," he repeats.

"Hi," she says, once she has met his gaze.

A sense of relief floods him.

"Kurt," he offers.

"Hi, Kurt," she adds, then twists her wrist out of his grasp and goes towards her bag, next to where Ryan is still rummaging in his.

Kurt's eyes widen. He straightens up to see Blaine grinning.

"Told you it'll take time," says Blaine, with a wink.

Kurt tries to look nonchalant. "Slow and steady, I guess."

"So, what made you come by?" asks Blaine. "Kewell actually let you off early?"

Kurt rolls his eyes. "Like I need his approval." Blaine's still all beaming, so he can't help smiling. "I just thought I'll swing by to see..." He pauses, then looks intently at Blaine. "You know, this is the first time I've seen you teach a class."

Blaine sighs loudly, surprising him. "I wish I had a little more time per period to just wrap things up a little better. Get them to think more about their actions, their words... you know, access their feelings a bit more and learn to articulate them."

Kurt arches an eyebrow. "You're giving yourself far too little credit. I would have given up within five minutes of just trying to catch everyone's attention."

"Ah, but you see," says Blaine, grinning as he reaches out for Kurt's hand. "That's why you're not teaching them. If you were, you would know that as long as you can hold one kid's attention, that's some measure of success for both you and the kid."

"How is it that you have so much positivity for other people but none for yourself?"

Blaine looks innocently at him. "That's what you're here for, no?"

Kurt gives him a mock annoyed look.

"Are you okay, though?" asks Blaine, seriously. "It's been a long week and I know you've been trying hard to get to know Jamie and all that..." He trails off with a questioning look.

"Yeah, no worries," says Kurt, breaking into a smile once again. "At least she has acknowledged me! That's one step down."

"But –"

Kurt leans in to silence him with a kiss. Beside them, Ryan says loudly, "Yuck!"

Kurt pulls back and instinctively glares at the boy.

"Relax, he's just being a typical kid," says Blaine, laughing.

"Gross. Boys kissing. Gross," Ryan adds, and gets ready to go out.

Kurt shifts his glare to Blaine. "Typical, alright."

Blaine's smile is now completely wiped off his face.

"Ryan!" He says sternly. However, before he can get Ryan to face him, Jamie goes over to stand in front of the little boy.

"I want to go home," says Ryan. "Go away."

"That's mean," says Jamie.

"I said it's gross, not mean," replies Ryan.

Jamie steps aside, but not without calling after him, "You're mean! You didn't say sorry!"

Blaine and Kurt exchange surprised looks.

Kurt takes a few seconds to recover. "Wow."

"Wonders never cease," Blaine agrees. He observes Jamie for a moment, then walks over to her and squats down. "Ready to go home, young lady?"

Jamie bounces a bit on her toes. "Yes, Blaine!" And immediately, she swings her backpack on her back and heads towards the door.

"She... she just called you Blaine," Kurt says, puzzled. "But you said –"

Blaine scratches his head. "I'm not sure how that works either..."

"Home!" yells Jamie, and she bounces on her toes again.

Blaine walks over to take her left hand. Then he looks back at Kurt and tilts his head to the right. Jamie's right hand is waving freely, as if beckoning someone to take it.

Kurt scrunches up his nose, then walks over to take Jamie's right hand. He's tentative when he reaches for it, but to his immense surprise, she grabs his hand without any reservation and proceeds to weigh down on it in her attempt to swing between the both of them. Then he realizes she's humming the tune of _Home On The Range_ as they walk on. He looks at Blaine, who is regarding Jamie with his eyes shining bright with affection. And then he feels his own heart burst with affection just seeing the two of them so happy.

For the first time that week, he thinks that things aren't that bad after all.


	6. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Kurt throws his pencil down, then crumples the piece of paper before him and dumps it into the bin. He smoothes out a new piece of paper and begins to hurriedly sketch over it.

Five minutes later, it's the same routine.

Kurt swears loudly. He's three days away from having to submit his pitch to Levington and Kewell, failing which, they're likely to look to the bunch of newest designers to pitch their collections instead. Then, Kurt can only dream about staging a show till end of next year and he can't possibly wait that long anymore. Not to mention that if he fails this time round, Kewell will certainly come up with 101 excuses to kick Kurt off the post of Senior Designer. After all, Kurt only has had one commercial collection under his name; the other was a joint-project with someone else. The only reason why he had climbed so far was because none of the others in his batch had demonstrated themselves, but the new batch of designers had proved to be very talented.

He can see Sugar at her desk outside. Even she could potentially launch her collection ahead of his, once she got down to refining her ideas. At least she had a brilliant, innovative approach. He? He can hardly think of anything else other than ways to try to engage Jamie at home. He is actually succeeding on that front; she gives one-liners to his questions and doesn't fuss when he touches her to get her attention. She just doesn't like him trying to play with her hair and is still generally more receptive to Blaine's words than to his, but it's still some measure of success.

That doesn't translate to his work, however, which pisses him right off.

Kurt takes the pencil and throws it into the bin as well.

Just then, the phone rings. Kurt answers in his professional tone, though given his current frustration, he couldn't help a slight curtness to it.

"Hello?"

"_Kurt?_"

"Blaine?" Kurt is part relieved to hear his voice, and part confused. "Why are you calling my office phone?" He picks up his handphone and realizes why. It's dead. "Oh. Okay. Never mind. I figured out –"

"_Sorry, am I bothering you?"_

"No, no!" Kurt shakes his head vigorously in accompaniment. "'Course not." Then he turns rigid. "Did something happen?"

"_No, don't worry,_" says Blaine. "_I just wanted to ask if you could buy some takeout on the way home. Jamie's been acting out of sorts today, so I'm taking her home and I don't think I'll have time to make us dinner. That alright with you?_"

"Yeah, sure!" Kurt frowns. "What's wrong with her?"

"_Nothing serious!_" says Blaine, then he laughs. "_She'll be fine._"

"Blaine –"

"_Uh, look, I gotta go. Need to settle something –"_

Kurt's pretty sure there's somebody wailing in the background, and that wail is very familiar.

"_So see you at home, yeah? Bye!_"

Kurt stares at the receiver, then clicks it back in place.

-.-.-.-.-.-

_2 years ago_

Kurt slams a bunch of files down on his office desk. Everyone in the office turns to stare at him, but the moment he glares around, they immediately turn back to their own work. He grabs one of the files, flips it open and tears out a drawing that he had just shown Levington and Kewell. One of the best pieces he had ever designed, in his opinion. But he had gone into the board room, given it his all, only to have Kewell tear it to pieces with his sharp sarcasm and have Levington agree that he could have done much better.

The phone rings, but Kurt can hardly hear it with the burning rage buzzing in his ears, until somebody shoves the receiver right into his ear.

"H-hello?"

"_Kurt?_"

"Blaine," Kurt whispers.

"_Kurt, what's wrong?_" Blaine's voice is so tender that Kurt can't help squeezing his eyes shut just to focus on the tone of it all. When all Kurt can do is to breathe deeply, Blaine follows up with, "_Okay, you know what, don't say anything. Get half the day off, and I'll meet you at your doorstep right away._"

"But –"

"_Talk to Levington, Kurt. He'll understand that you need some time to think through. I know it's your pitch today and if you're sounding like that, I think I know what went on. So tell him you need some time and you'll come back better and stronger. And I can even promise you that._"

So that is exactly what Kurt does next, and the moment he finds Blaine waiting by his doorstep, he launches himself straight into the other man's arms.

"I'm here," whispers Blaine. "I'm here."

"I did all that I could, Blaine," says Kurt, gripping him tightly. "I don't understand."

Blaine pulls back, then puts his hands on Kurt's cheeks, his thumb softly wiping away a tear. "You've tried very, very hard, Kurt. I know you've put in so much. But that's not all you can do. You're capable of so much more and you have to show them. One day, Kewell will have to sit there with his mouth gaping open and there's nothing that will come out because it's _perfect_."

"How would you know?" Kurt asks desperately. "You've only known me for two months, Blaine Anderson, how would you know?"

Blaine breaks out into a big grin. "It's not my fault that Kewell is two years' worth behind me in talent recognition."

Kurt isn't convinced, however. Blaine then slips his hands down into the back of Kurt's jean pockets and pulls Kurt against him.

"Kurt, when you love something, you give it a 101%. You love music, and you stayed in your high school glee club all the way through even though it was like, the losers of loserdom back then and you were slushied all the time just for being in it. You love your dad, so you would throw away the first competition – never mind that it was a mini sing-off within the glee club – just so he wouldn't be hurt by the haters who mocked you for your voice."

Blaine's eyes are filled with tenderness and sincerity that Kurt just wants to keep staring into it, because it gives him strength and hope that he has never really found anywhere else.

"And you love fashion, so you chose to pursue it as your dream and you are sweating it out in this company even though you hate some of the people there, because you _know_, Kurt, you know that this place will get you somewhere. You didn't even think twice when you had to apply to a company, it was the only one you applied for and you were so certain your ability would take you to places here. Your dream is not done. You're not yet at 101% because it's not done yet."

Blaine bites his bottom lip, then whispers, "And I know you love me, because you told me all these things within two months, things from the bottom of your heart that have brought you so much pain and given you so much love."

Kurt buries his head in Blaine's shoulder once more, completely overwhelmed. He's not one who's easily bowled over by words, but Blaine is right – he has given his heart to Blaine, 101%, even within these few months because this man has the strangest ability to go right to the bottom of his insecurities and plant a seed of empowerment.

Finally, he manages to ask, "So what did you originally call me for?"

"I wanted to ask if you needed dinner, but I'm going to provide the answer to that question now. Does sushi sound good?"

"It sounds _very_ good," says Kurt, who can't help smiling now.

"There, a man who finds food as inspiration is a man I love," says Blaine, who kisses Kurt's shoulder softly. "Shall we?"

-.-.-.-.-.-

_Present Day_

Kurt can hear the familiar wailing a couple of steps away from his door. Drawing a deep breath, he enters the house to find Blaine holding a clipboard in front of a crying Jamie. Jamie's foot shoots out, but Blaine edges back quickly and says sternly,

"Jamie, eyes on the paper."

Her eyes swerve to the paper, but whatever is on the paper just makes her start crying again.

"What's happened?" asks Kurt, once he has shut the door and put the takeout on the kitchen table.

"She's – hang on," Blaine mutters as he puts the clipboard aside and presses a finger to his mouth. Then he looks at Kurt. "You wanna just get the food ready first?"

"Blaine," says Kurt. "Just tell me what's wrong with her."

"Well..." says Blaine, even as a strangled cry issues from Jamie once more. "She got denied two minutes of playtime at Marley's class today because she took a pencil from a friend to draw her own stuff when she was supposed to be doing some math. Marley's kinda new to the Center and I think she didn't give Jamie proper closure when she tried to reason things out."

Kurt narrows his eyes. "Why did Jamie do that?"

"Kurt, I don't know," says Blaine, a little testily now. "I'm trying to work that closure bit now, to teach her that it was wrong and therefore she had to face up to her consequences."

Kurt waits for about five minutes, then when Jamie continues to wail, he puts his hands on his hips. "I'm pretty sure you've been using that clipboard for like, a good half of the day or something. Why don't you –"

He makes his way to his room, picks out a pencil, then heads back to the living room. "Why don't you try –"

"No, don't!" Blaine's eyes widen upon seeing the pencil. "Don't get the pencil involved!"

Unfortunately, Jamie does see the pencil and yells, "PENCIL! I WANT THE PENCIL!"

"Jamie," says Kurt, firmly. "What color is your –"

"Kurt, get the pencil back," Blaine interjects, sharply.

"No, gee, relax. I'm trying to get her to realize that her pencil is different from this one!" Kurt exclaims. "I read that –"

"Kurt!" Blaine nearly trips as he tries to stand up, because Jamie is flailing about. "Crap, I need my –"

"Why do you think it's not going to work?" demands Kurt. "It's worth a shot!"

"Come on, Kurt, she's not in the mood for games," says Blaine, annoyed. "Look at her, she's –"

"Oh, so now what I'm doing is playing games?" Kurt stares at Blaine. "I'm just trying to –"

"Well, it's not the time for whatever it is that you're trying to do!"

Kurt's jaw drops.

"Kurt, just please make dinner and –"

"Okay, I'm really sick and tired of people telling me that whatever I'm doing is not good enough!" Kurt retorts. "That no matter how much I try, it's still not the _right_ way or the _right _type of thinking or that I'm pitching things _correctly_ – whatever the hell that means!"

"Kurt!" Blaine hisses, as Jamie's cries grow louder. "We'll settle this later!"

"No, we will _not_," says Kurt, glaring at Blaine. "We've been settling things far much later than they ought to be settled, Blaine!"

"I don't know what the heck it is that you're trying to settle!" Blaine throws his hands up. By this time, Jamie has leant backwards and is kicking in the air. Blaine goes forward to try to capture her attention, but she's just screaming.

"Oh yeah, so you don't bother finding out and the first thing you do is to go settle _her_!"

"Will you please be a little more rational here and see that this is something more serious?" Blaine demands, his eyes full of incredulity.

"Excuse me?" Kurt gasps. "Something _more_ serious? Than our relationship?"

"What is _wrong_ with you today?!" Blaine can't seem to care anymore; he's more preoccupied with trying to hold Jamie's legs together.

"Blaine, stop trying to –" Kurt slams the pencil down on the kitchen table.

"DON'T TAKE MY PENCIL AWAY!" Jamie screams. She grabs a fistful of Blaine's shirt and knocks him against the sofa.

"Fuck!" Blaine gasps as he tries to steady the girl. "Kurt..."

"Oh, so now you can't handle her yourself?" Kurt is so full of anger that his whole head feels like it's exploding.

"_Kurt!_"

"AIYEEEEEEE!" Jamie shrieks, her entire face scrunched up. She lunges out at Blaine, but he grabs her and holds her tightly. It is only then that it occurs to Kurt that the girl is going to continue kicking and punching regardless of how tightly Blaine is holding her.

His eyes widen. This is no ordinary situation. "Blaine, she –"

"Cushions!" Blaine grabs a few from the couch and lays them out before the struggling girl in his arms. "We need to move the couch and table away too."

Kurt almost wants to be snarky about being instructed, but with Jamie's face turning completely pale, he pushes the snark aside and complies as best as he can, even rushing into the Creative Room to drag out the mattress and knocking over a few things in the process. He can hardly care about other things when Jamie is screaming the house down. Blaine has handled many kids' meltdowns before, but he's ultimately quite a small-sized dude. Even if the kid is a petite six-year-old, it's definitely a mean feat to try and hold down that six-year-old who is kicking and punching and crying uncontrollably.

"Look... I can't – I need to call someone. Just... just help me hold her?" Blaine looks at Kurt in a way that is part pleading, part wary. Kurt hates that he has made Blaine feel so distrusting of him because of his relationship with Jamie, that he has to hesitate even at such a crucial moment. Yet at this point, all he can do is to hold out his arms. Jamie immediately arches and nearly does a bicycle kick, but Blaine arm-locks her legs together as Kurt tightens his arms around her and tries to hum the tune that Blaine uses to calm her down.

Blaine fumbles with some numbers on his phone with one hand as best as he can, then presses the phone between his ear and shoulder as he tries to draw Jamie's attention to him to no avail. However, whoever it is doesn't seem to be picking up the phone. He curses, then tries another number. Finally, he exhales a loud breath of relief.

"Hello? Santana? I have an emergency."

Kurt swears under his breath when Jamie's left leg breaks free of Blaine's grip and her heel digs backward into his thigh.

Blaine sticks his finger into his ear as Jamie lets out another ear-piercing shriek. "Santana, I don't care! You're a therapist too, it doesn't matter, get your ass down here!"

"You're calling Santana Lopez?!" Kurt yells, once Blaine has thrown his phone aside. "The woman who called me Lady Porcelain Gay?!"

"Emma's not in, Santana's our best shot now, deal with it!" snaps Blaine. Kurt flinches instantly, and Blaine's eyes lock with him.

"Shit," Blaine mutters. "I'm sorry, Kurt, I just –"

Kurt doesn't say anything; he holds on tightly to Jamie and at the same time, fighting the tears that were threatening to spill out. He hates all the thick, cloying tension in the air that makes it so difficult for words to come out, and when they do, they're all the _wrong_ ones.

"I WANT! I WANT MY PENCIL!" screams Jamie.

Blaine tries his darndest to distract Jamie with visual cues, but she's still screaming, even though she's getting hoarser and her entire face is blotched with crying. She's heaving too, gasping to catch breaths of air. Kurt can't help but feel his heart constrict just looking between Jamie's wild expression and Blaine's pained one. Her hands eventually break free of Kurt's grasp and she reaches out to claw at Blaine.

Blaine snatches his hand back and Kurt can see the trail of blood at the back of his hand, fresh ones over the ones that had yet to heal completely. Yet, Blaine doesn't look at his hand at all; he's still scribbling things on paper to show Jamie. Kurt can't help tearing badly now, even as he grips Jamie tightly.

When the doorbell finally rings, Blaine jumps up and hurries Santana in. She strides over, takes one good look at the situation and immediately says,

"You ladyboys have far too much maternal instincts in you."

"Excuse – me?" Kurt chokes out as he glares at her.

"Let her go," says Santana. "You've created quite a safe space, just position yourselves at the open areas. Let her thrash it out."

Kurt is incredulous, but Blaine obliges and moves back, motioning for Kurt to let go.

"Are you sure about this –"

"Damn it, Hummel, just lay her down slowly and then scoot back," says Santana, annoyed.

Kurt grits his teeth as he moves back slightly and slowly – very slowly – makes to release Jamie.

"If you do it any slower, she's going to kick you in the stomach," warns Santana. "Just release and go!"

So he does, and he nearly crashes into the sofa as he scrambles backwards. Jamie rolls all over the carpet and kicks the cushions about, screaming and crying intermittently. Santana moves over slowly, and Blaine is standing in the corner looking dreadfully white. Kurt tries to catch his breath as he curls his knees into his body and watches Santana attempt to engage Jamie.

Or rather, _not _engage her. She's only moved in a tiny bit. Now she's just watching as Jamie lunges about.

"Well, aren't you going to do something, Sandbags?"

Santana steals a subconscious look at her chest, then throws a glare at Kurt. She says nothing, however, but turns her gaze back to Jamie.

"She's going to be out of breath really soon!" Kurt seethes.

"Well, that's the point, dummy," says Santana, lazily.

"I want my pencil!" shouts Jamie, her fist lamely connecting with Santana's kneecap. Kurt then realizes that her movements are much slower now.

"I don't know why I didn't think of that," murmurs Blaine.

"That's because you've been having life too easy with the little ones," snaps Santana. "I should tell Sue to get you rotated over to the adults' division sometime soon."

Jamie shrieks again, but her voice is almost hoarse now. After what seems like a long while, Santana eases a cushion next to Jamie, who immediately grabs it. But she has no energy to throw it, so all she can do is clutch at it.

"Watch out," says Kurt, nervously. "She might suffocate herself."

Santana's look at him now seems more surprised than annoyed, but she focuses once again on Jamie and gently places another cushion near her head. Slowly, she moves over and reaches out to lift Jamie's head onto the cushion. Then she peels the other cushion out of her grasp and eases the girl to lie on both cushions. Jamie is still rolling from side to side, but not too violently.

Blaine immediately makes his way over and begins to hum. The tender way he looks at Jamie makes Kurt turn away and examine his hands.

Kurt then decides to get up and go to the kitchen.

"Do you want some food, Santana?" His voice has become hoarse too.

"It's okay, those green stuff you have in the bags are just gonna make me hurl chunks. I need my _abuela's_ spicy curry later to get my spirits back," says Santana.

"Get me some too," Kurt mutters under his breath.

"That's a good girl, Jamie," says Santana, her voice melding into something so soft that Kurt finds it unrecognizable. "Look, it's me, Santana. I've missed playing with you."

Jamie struggles slightly, but Santana speaks to her gently with just the tiniest edge of firmness.

Somehow, Santana and Blaine manage to coax the exhausted Jamie to sleep, and Blaine eventually carries her into the Creative Room. Kurt just sits at the kitchen table staring at the bowls of salad, and a bowl of soup that he hadn't put in the microwave yet.

Santana notices, and frowns. "That's like drinking puke. You need it hot."

"Thanks for ruining my appetite."

"My pleasure," says Santana.

Blaine comes out of the room, looking extremely weary, but he nods gratefully to Santana. "Thanks, San."

"That one's not my pleasure," says Santana. "But I'll take it." She looks from Blaine to Kurt, then back again. "Okay, whatever it is that is going between the two of you –"

Kurt eyes her suspiciously.

"My gaydar doesn't just sense positive, happy feelings between gays, you know," says Santana, airily. "It's got a dual function."

"Whatever it is," she continues, "don't bring it up in front of Jamie. Not for now. She can easily connect any argument between the two of you with the unhappiness that she was experiencing just now."

"Well, it's not like we chose to bring it up in front of her..." Blaine begins.

"Or maybe it's precisely because she was in front of us..." mutters Kurt.

"Kurt, just stop," says Blaine, wearily.

"It's not settled yet," says Kurt. "But you can sit down and have your food first."

"No, I'm not talking about our argument or whatever that was about. I'm saying stop making Jamie a part of this blame game, okay? Whatever it is, it's between the two of us, it's not –"

Kurt stands up and glares at Blaine. "Funny, I don't see that this _game_ is being played by two only. If anything, this whole thing is precisely because of that girl in there."

"Whoa, okay..." Santana begins, but Blaine cuts in, "Kurt, we gave ourselves two weeks."

"No, you gave us two weeks. In fact, you wanted to give us a month. Maybe more." Kurt is trembling as he speaks.

"Kurt, you said you would try!" Blaine looks at him desperately. "You said that as long as she lived in our home, this was our responsibility! Together!"

Something snaps within Kurt.

"_Our_ home?" Kurt scoffs. "If this was _our_ home, in the first place you would have consulted me first about bringing an autistic girl home, you would have asked me how I felt about even having one more person in this house at this point in time! But as it is, you didn't!" His voice has escalated into yelling. "You just made all these assumptions about what I would think, what I would say or do... or maybe you didn't even bother to assume because I'd just go along with you! That I'd just take your words as they are, as they always are because you always convince me with whatever you say!"

Blaine is obviously trying to articulate a response, but Kurt doesn't want to give him a chance to.

"And then because I said that it was our responsibility, aren't you supposed to then think that I can handle it? But no, you don't think I can handle it! You think I _can't_ handle anything to do with her because you know better and I don't! This, coming from the person who once said that I'm capable of so much more!" Kurt is almost shrieking now. "Who do you take me for?! Just because we're not married doesn't mean you can –"

He stops abruptly. Blaine has gone pale.

Santana rolls her eyes. "Heeeere we go."

"What did you say?" Blaine whispers, after a tense moment of silence.

Kurt stares back at him defiantly.

"You –" Blaine sucks in a deep breath; his eyes are full of hurt. "Don't you _dare_ use marriage as a handle for an argument between us. Don't you _dare_ suggest that I might have used it against us in any way."

Kurt's fingers have curled up into fists, but it's only because they're trembling so badly. "I am not trying to –"

Blaine sucks in a shuddery breath.

"That's enough!" Santana's sharp voice cuts through. "Bunch of babies! You'll wake Jamie up and undo all the past hour's grand display of all the calming techniques known to a behavioral therapist, for God's sake! You can take your little gay rights struggle right out to the streets so the people of Lima can actually hear a public cry in this strangled conservative town!"

Kurt turns away sharply. The constricting within him is so tight that he just needs to run out of this house to actually _breathe_. Yet he can't just run away like that. He can't possibly do that, not when they've been running away from everything ever since Jamie has come to stay.

It's Blaine who says, "I need to go."

Kurt swivels back, burning with rage. "You are _not_ leaving. You are staying here and we are figuring out how to make sure that girl doesn't act up again and then where she's going next because we are not –"

"She's not _that girl_!" Blaine's voice is strangled. "And how many times do I have to tell you –"

His voice is rising again, and Kurt almost wants to yell back, but he's abruptly stopped by Santana, who steps forward to give Blaine a resonating slap across his face.

Kurt's jaw drops.

Blaine gasps, holding his hand to his cheek. "What the _hell_, Santana?!"

"You think it's so easy for everyone else out there to know how to face a kid like that?" Santana sneers. "You think that people can see the innocent face and go 'aw, so cute' and when the kid starts screaming and crying, all they can think of is to shut them up and you think that they're being cruel when all that is, is simply that they don't fucking know what's going on. Blaine Anderson, not everyone lives in a world like us, not everyone _knows_ and is willing to put up with a kid randomly whom Sue can't even handle herself and chucks it to us!"

Blaine is staring bewildered at Santana; Kurt is just gaping by the side.

Santana shoots a grim look at Kurt, then back at Blaine again. "You give your all to the LAC and these kids, Blaine. And look at you. You've become like one of them. So innocent, so naive, that when you think other people look at them, it's only with pity and sometimes with derision. You never think that if you had never experienced meeting any of those kids and then as an adult, you saw them for the first time, you might have had the same thoughts."

"Santana, what the hell are you talking about?" Blaine asks through gritted teeth.

But Kurt knows what Santana is saying. He doesn't know how Santana _knows_, but she is saying everything that is inside him.

Unfortunately, she doesn't continue. She looks at her watch, taps it and says, "I've got another appointment. I can't stay to be your co-habitation counselor. If you need more consultation on this, I'll be happy to help as long as the both of you can sneak me into a gay club or something." Her serious looks melds into a cheeky one as she winks. "The hot dudes are all there."

Blaine turns to look incredulously at Kurt, but Kurt swiftly avoids meeting his gaze any further.

When Santana leaves, the silence in the house is so cloying that it's blocking Kurt's ears. He tries to sneeze, but it doesn't work. He climbs back onto the chair at the kitchen table and sticks a fork into his salad.

"I'm not hungry," says Blaine quietly.

A short pause later, he says, "I'll have to sleep with Jamie tonight."

Kurt stuffs a lettuce into his mouth.

"Look, I'm not quite sure what Santana was trying to say, but I do know that I'm sorry," whispers Blaine. "I know it's really tiring and all that, but I just –" He stops short, then sighs. "Kurt?"

Kurt's cheek twitches, but he doesn't look up.

"I... I _love_ you, Kurt," Blaine's voice is so weak now that his words are coming out in puffs. "And I am _so, so _sorry."

Kurt swallows down his lettuce and hates that it tastes so bitter. "So am I," he murmurs, "but that's all we can say, huh?"

He doesn't look at Blaine as he leaves the food all on the table, walks past him to the bedroom, and shuts the door behind him.

-.-.-.-.-.-

The first thing Kurt feels is warmth on his face. Then he opens his eyes a little and ends up squinting with the light filtering through his bedroom curtains. He groans and rolls over, arms splayed out – onto an empty bed sheet.

He grunts and grabs his pillow to cover his face.

Then he scrambles to sit up and lets out a frustrated noise. A Saturday morning spent alone in bed is a completely good moment wasted, and he hates wasting time. He gets out of bed and shuffles into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He comes out – but instead of going out, he decides to sit down and switch on his laptop. Just as he waits for it to start up, his phone buzzes.

It's a Whatsapp message from Tina, asking him to go on Skype.

"It's like six a.m. for that crazy woman," he mutters. "Why's she up and about so early?"

He's not so surprised then, when Tina appears on his screen yawning and leaning her head into her palm.

"You look like the princess who slept on a pea," remarks Kurt.

"I know right," says Tina, who proceeds to yawn again. "Oh God. My head's aching too."

"What happened?" Kurt's voice softens.

Tina looks a little sad. "Last night, Artie and I went out to this restaurant where somehow, the food reminded him of what his mom used to make for him when he was younger. He got a bit upset that the carrots weren't exactly cut the way he liked them and then all of a sudden, boom! Emotions all over the place." She rubs her eyes. "Took me hours to calm him down. He's usually quite okay, but when it comes to his parents, he always tends to get like doubly worked up."

Kurt knows that Artie lost his parents in a car crash when he was eight and still remembers them very fondly. Still, he thinks of how Jamie had a severe meltdown yesterday and all he can do is scrunch up his face as much as he can to muster a sympathetic look.

Then he frowns. "So why aren't you sleeping?"

"Well, at five a.m. when I was just about feeling my eyelids gettin' heavy, I got a dozen texts from Santana," says Tina, narrowing her eyes. "No prizes for guessing what that was all about."

"It sucks that our friends know each other," grumbles Kurt. Tina and Santana have a quirky ex-colleague friendship that somehow involve them scolding and insulting each other all the time (Kurt was once privy to a telephone conversation which featured Tina at her bitchiest, but apparently she was just having a regular catch-up session with Santana), but yet having each other's back (and telling each other tales) when it mattered most.

"Well, otherwise when would you tell me? I distinctly remember somebody getting all up in my grill when I decided to go off with Artie to LA without really consulting him."

"I would have told you," protested Kurt. "Just that –" He sighs. "I can't help being mad still, can I?"

"Oh, Kurt," says Tina. "I know how hard you've been trying to make things work with Jamie. All those questions you've asked, all those information that you asked me to send you, I mean... it takes a hell lot of courage for someone who doesn't handle these kids on a daily basis to step forward and work out a meaningful relationship with them, even if it's only for two weeks. You promised Blaine that it was a dual responsibility and you were working on it."

Despite the grainy resolution of the Skype picture, Kurt swears he can see Tina's eyes shining as she says, "I'm proud of you, Kurt."

Kurt can't help those damn tears again. "Tina..."

"That said... have you ever thought that Blaine is trying to protect you too?" Tina asks, gently.

"...what?"

"Hmm. How should I put it?" Tina taps against her chin. "Well, like I'm always very watchful whenever my parents meet Artie. I tend to get a little too involved when they're trying to have conversations with each other because I'm worried Artie would say something that would displease my parents and that my parents would say something that would trigger Artie. I mean, I know that they have tried reading up and stuff like that too, but it's still going to be different from what I know and have experienced working with autistic people."

She smiles. "I think Blaine is worried too – he's worried that, for a lack of a better word, your inexperience might make you vulnerable to Jamie's reactions, or that you could say something unintentionally provoking to Jamie."

"I never really thought of it that way," admits Kurt. "But still..."

"Yes, he has gotten rather carried away, that's for sure," says Tina. "But do you know, when he had screwed up so badly the first time by not asking you for permission to bring Jamie home, he was so afraid that you would leave him?"

"How could I?" murmurs Kurt.

"Yeah, you proved to him that you wouldn't. Why, Kurt, why? What is it about Blaine Anderson that makes you love him so much, despite all the silly ass-hat things that he does?"

Kurt doesn't quite know what to say. Then Tina yawns, and all he can say is, "I think you should go catch your forty winks."

Tina looks sheepish. "I really spoil the whole pep talk thing when I'm half asleep. Sorry... I'll head to bed then. But think about it, Kurt. I love the both of you so very much."

"I love you too, Tina," says Kurt, smiling. "And I'm proud of you for making your relationship with Artie work too."

Tina beams, then waves goodbye.

Kurt sits at his desk for a while more. He stares at the blank canvas on one side, and the pile of pencils on the other. Then he gets up and goes to the kitchen.

Once more, it is the familiar sight of Blaine in the kitchen, making breakfast, and Jamie seated at the kitchen table playing with her toast. Blaine doesn't turn around at all, but Jamie's gaze briefly meets with Kurt's.

"Hello, Jamie," says Kurt, gently. "Good morning."

"Good morning!" she says cheerfully. Then as Kurt takes her hand and gets her to look at him again, she adds, "Kurt!"

"That's a good girl," he says, smiling as she does.

"I'm eating bread with egg," says Jamie, in a sing-song voice. "Bread with egg." And then she starts singing a little nonsensical song all by herself. Kurt looks at her amusedly, then up at Blaine.

He turns to Jamie again. "Do I get bread with egg?"

Jamie calls out, "Does Kurt get bread with egg?"

"She's good," says Kurt, grinning. "You're much happier now, aren't you, Jamie?"

Jamie continues eating her toast, but Blaine still hasn't looked back at him. Sighing, Kurt gets up and makes his way towards Blaine.

"It's okay if you don't feel like frying an egg again," says Kurt, softly.

Blaine still doesn't respond. Kurt feels something rise in him and he has to swallow it down really hard. "Blaine, say something."

When Blaine doesn't, Kurt reaches over to touch his arm, but is completely taken by surprise when all of a sudden, Blaine's knees buckle and he's falling back into Kurt's arms.

"Blaine!" Kurt gasps, as he takes in the pale countenance of his boyfriend. "Oh my God, Blaine?!"

Blaine's eyes are almost rolling back; his lips are moving soundlessly and his limbs are limp against Kurt.

"Blaine, don't scare me! What's wrong with you?!"

"Bread with egg!" Jamie sings.

"Jamie!" Kurt stares at her in terror. "Jamie!"

It takes him two more calls for her to turn her head to face him.

"Bring me the phone!" He lowers Blaine to the ground so that he can free one hand and mimic the phone.

To his utmost relief, Jamie slides off the chair and goes over to bring the handheld phone. Once she has handed the receiver over and Kurt is frantically dialing the ambulance, she asks,

"Is Blaine tired?"

As it is, Jamie is right. When Blaine arrives at the hospital, the doctor says that he is suffering from exhaustion and needs to be put on a drip and kept in the hospital for observation over a couple of days. Kurt is torn between feeling relieved that it isn't something overly serious, and absolutely guilty that all the work Blaine has been doing, along with their fight yesterday, must have taken a toll on him.

Blaine is now sleeping peacefully, while Kurt sits next to his bed with Blaine's hand in his. Kurt runs his thumb lightly over the bandage covering the back of Blaine's hand, where Jamie had scratched him. Jamie is on the other side of the bed, looking curiously at Blaine.

"Will he wake up soon?" asks Jamie. "I need to go to school."

Kurt knows that if he immediately tells Jamie that he is bringing her to school instead of Blaine, she might act up, so he motions for her to come over. She totters over, then stares at Kurt.

Kurt picks her up and sets her on his lap. It's a wonder that she's okay with it now, given that she previously didn't really like him to touch her. Then he put her hand on Blaine's.

"Blaine is very tired," Kurt whispers slowly. "He can't drive, otherwise he might fall asleep in the car. What happens when a car driver falls asleep?"

"Accident?" Jamie wonders.

"Yes, you wouldn't want that, right?"

"No," says Jamie, vehemently.

"So..." Kurt takes out a pen and small notebook from his pocket. He writes down 'Blaine cannot drive Jamie to school', then draws two arrows. One arrow leads to 'Jamie stays at home', and another arrow leads to 'Kurt drives Jamie to school'. Then he shows it to Jamie. "Which one do you want?"

Jamie eyes the paper for a while, then she jabs at an arrow.

"So... Kurt will drive you to school tomorrow?" Kurt asks.

Jamie nods.

Kurt can't help leaning in to press a kiss against Jamie's cheek. She leans away slightly, but when Kurt pulls away, she dives back into his embrace. They sit like that for a while, with Kurt wondering about a dozen things at one go. Then Jamie suddenly breaks him out of his reverie by taking his hand and putting it on Blaine's.

"Jamie..." Kurt stares at her.

She puts her hand on top of both of theirs, then looks around in a spacey manner. "Blaine likes holding Kurt's hand."

Kurt holds the little girl tightly to him with one hand, and grips Blaine's hand with the other. The emotions in him are so complex and tangled and he is so tired of trying to figure all of it out. He doesn't want to think about anything more now, only that Blaine will be alright.

_The sun'll come out tomorrow  
Bet your bottom dollar  
That tomorrow there'll be sun_

_Just thinkin' about tomorrow  
Clears away the cobwebs,  
And the sorrow  
'Til there's none!_


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Sorry for the long wait! Took me quite a while to write this chapter because it's from a different perspective and there's a lot of internal struggle that I had to flesh out here. Not to mention that RL isn't very kind at the moment. Hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think! (:

* * *

**CHAPTER SIX** (Blaine's POV)

Blaine knows that there's someone around, but he can't quite make out who it is.

"K-kurt?"

There's a garbled voice, and he wishes he can hear that it is Kurt calling his name.

He tries to say Kurt's name again, but his voice doesn't quite materialize. Then something wet and cold is smacked onto his face and his eyes jump wide open.

"AH!" He jerks away, but ends up twisting his neck a bit. "Owww..."

"My pleasure once again."

Blaine rolls his head on the pillow a bit, then rubs his eyes and stares straight up – at Santana Lopez with a wet sponge over him. "Oh my God..." he groans, blindly swiping her hand away and pulling up the blanket over his head. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

Then he stops short. "No, wait." He flips the covers down. "What am _I _doing here?"

"Isn't that a question only you can answer?" asks Santana, snidely.

Blaine covers his head with his arm. "I don't remember anything. I was – I was making breakfast for Jamie and then –that's all."

"Oh, you missed your knight in shining armor catching you in his strong, broad arms? What a pity."

"Huh?"

Santana yanks him upright and stuffs the pillow against his back, obviously ignoring his winces. "And that wasn't even the most dramatic bit. Seriously, Anderson, just one slap and all your energy is sapped out? I didn't even give you the full-blown Spanish storm rage."

Blaine has to think quite a bit to get through what Santana has just said, not to mention that his head is aching badly. "What? I – oh." He rubs his temples. "Right. Well, I didn't think it was going to be _that_bad."

Santana rolls her eyes.

"Where's Kurt?" Blaine asks, quietly.

"Busy toning those strong, broad arms," says Santana, with a wicked grin. Then she shrugs. "Sending Jamie to school. And thank you in advance for asking after me, I took leave and Sue gave me hell but you know, any chance to get a one-up over that woman is always a trip for me."

"I'm sorry," Blaine blurts.

"Oh, quit that martyr act!" Santana glares at him. "I didn't waste my day coming here to watch you postulate to me, even though I think you should somehow compensate for asking me to come all the way to your place instead of getting Emma."

"I told you –"

"Yeah, yeah," says Santana, folding her arms. "I don't think Emma would have been great in handling your gay issues anyway, she might have just given you one of her mighty pamphlets and scooted off."

Blaine takes a while to piece back his memory of what had happened, before finally asking, "Is Kurt still mad at me?"

"For fainting on him before his breakfast got made, yes."

"Shit," mutters Blaine.

"I'm mad at you too."

"Santana, I really don't need to take crap from you now."

"Of course you do. How else are you going to continue being a happy gay?"

Blaine narrows his eyes at her now that he is feeling more alert. "Your idea of seeking compensation from me is for me to give you my fullest attention while you slice and dice me with that tongue of yours?"

Santana makes an exasperated noise. "Seriously, if there's anybody you should be compensating, it ought to be Hummel."

"Look," says Blaine, at once, though he feels dreadful for saying this, "I know it's been really tough on Kurt since Jamie came to live with us, and I've screwed up big time by pulling him into this situation, and having him go through with this for two weeks... I know that I've been so unfair to him. But..." He takes a deep breath, before staring straight at Santana. "It's been really, really hard on me too! I'm trying my best to take the load off him, so I've worked hard to ensure that Jamie is well prepped in advance for every single thing so that she's comfortable and will ease into situations. I know he's trying to rush out his latest collection, so I really don't want to get him all tangled up in having to manage Jamie. But I have had a long day at work too and the kids haven't been very cooperative all week! And –"

His voice cracks. He hates saying things like that; he understands that everybody has their own problems and he can't possibly be doing comparisons like that. He had promised himself before that he wouldn't compare his work with Kurt's because they were two different monsters altogether. Yet...

He hangs his head. "All of it just came crashing down one day, I guess."

"Yes, Mr. SuperBlaine, of course it's been hard on you. Why you said yes in the first place to Sue is still a mystery –"

"Oh yeah?" Blaine looks up, annoyed. "Would you have?"

Santana clamps her lips together.

"Who else would?" Blaine's voice drops to a murmur. "You and Mike are single, carefree, have your own lives to live. Two weeks having a kid at home is a big deal, a huge disruption to your routine. Will and Emma are getting married soon; they're busy setting up their new home and have no time to handle a kid outside of work hours. And it just works the same for the rest."

He sighs. "I just thought Kurt and I would be ready."

"You're not getting the point though, hobbit," says Santana, crossly. "Whether that assumption was a mistake or not, I don't know, but what I _do _know, is that you weren't the only one trying to make that assumption work."

"Huh?" Blaine blinks rapidly. "What are you – wait – hey, you don't even talk to Kurt!"

"Ah, you see, that's the trick to getting the dirty stuff, Anderson, you talk to everyone else _but_ the person," says Santana, dryly. "Or you might also do a bit of physical investigation, just that it's a little out of my league to track the web history of Hummel's personal computer because what kind of kinky stuff that might yield, I really don't need to know." She pauses. "Though that might be quite a turn-on."

Before Blaine can add another incredulous and bewildered comment, she continues, "What do you think Kurt thinks of Jamie?"

Blaine is tired; he doesn't really want to have this conversation. "He... I think he just does what he can, which I'm proud of him for."

"But what he _can_ do isn't a lot, right?"

"There's only so much he can do after knowing her for like, what, a week?"

"But so did you."

"That's not the same!" Blaine protests.

"So you guys started out on different levels of understanding. But you know what?" Santana leans forward. "Tina told me that Kurt has been reading up extensively on autism, asking her for materials and advice and whatnot. This is like, on top of what he does for a living," she leans back, "which I'm sure is yielding much fruit if I judge by your outfits."

The door suddenly opens – Kurt comes in carrying two cups, nearly overbalancing as he notices Blaine.

"You're awake!" he enthuses, his whole face lighting up. Blaine feels tendrils of warmth unfurling within him, overtaking the waves of confusion as he matches Kurt's smile.

"Whoa, easy does it," says Santana, getting up at once to grab a cup from Kurt. "Don't need you breaking to little china pieces on the ground. You look better glued together like this than in bits on the floor."

"Do you ever have a good word to say about me?" asks Kurt, annoyed. Then he looks at Blaine. "Some caffeine? I think that's a better prescription than those pills they make you pop."

"Kurt," whispers Blaine, as he takes the cup from Kurt. "I know you hate hearing me say this, but I just _have_ to. I'm so sorry."

Kurt's smile tightens. "Are you having any headaches or anything like that?"

"A little," mumbles Blaine, even though his head is throbbing madly in all aspects.

"I'll leave you two," says Santana, and makes her way out.

"In case you were wondering," Kurt calls out just as she is about to shut the door on them. "'Headache' isn't a codeword for anything!"

He looks back at Blaine, then frowns. "You know, you scared the hell out of me. You literally fell back onto me like a puppet just got its strings cut." His voice softens. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

Blaine grips the bed sheets and looks away, his lips trembling.

"Blaine?" Kurt's concerned voice just makes the knot within Blaine tighten even further. "Blaine, what's wrong? Did Razor-Head Girl say something?"

Blaine tilts his head back so that the tears won't fall out of his eyes. But it doesn't work for too long because of all the snot is building up at the back of his nasal tract, combined with his headache and burning eyes. A minute later, he has to shut his eyes and turn over to bury his head into the pillow.

Kurt doesn't say anything else; Blaine feels the side of the bed depress a bit, and then there is a familiar presence enveloping him – Kurt's soft hand rubbing the side of his arm, his warm breath against his ear and his legs intertwined with his. Kurt presses a kiss against Blaine's shoulder.

"Okay. No more for today. Just rest, " whispers Kurt. "We can talk again later."

Yes. Rest. There's a lot to talk, but he can't think anymore. All he can do now is rest.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Blaine is discharged from the hospital two days later, armed with a bagful of pills and vitamins and stern words of advice from the doctor. He gets the rest of the week off from work and Kurt dutifully wakes up early every morning to prepare breakfast for both him and Jamie before fetching Jamie to the LAC. Jamie is also wonderfully cooperative for these few days, even going as far as to hand Blaine his pills and a glass of water. Blaine can see Kurt watching by the kitchen table with a quirk at the edge of his lips, and his heart aches even more.

Kurt comes home early one day, and Blaine is rather glad to have some time with him. Before they can converse though, the home phone rings.

"Hello?" Blaine leans back into the sofa with the phone pressed against his ear, flashing an apologetic smile at Kurt.

What he hears makes his face fall. He's not sure what is going to happen, since either way it would cause issues. He mumbles assent, then puts down the phone.

"Who's that?" asks Kurt, sitting down next to Blaine. "What happened?"

"Sue," says Blaine, and his heart sinks when Kurt's eyes light up.

He angles himself to face Kurt and takes his hands. "She says they've found a handler for Jamie–" he swallows hard, "–but she can only take Jamie in at the end of the month because she's moving house or something like that."

Kurt turns away as he says, "So... that means two more weeks?"

"Two more weeks," says Blaine. He squeezes Kurt's hands. "Kurt, I –"

"Listen, you don't have to say anything," says Kurt, quietly. "It's not like we can put Jamie anywhere for the next two weeks."

"Kurt, I know what you've been doing," says Blaine. Kurt looks at him confusedly, so he continues, "I know you've been reading up and asking around and –"

He sighs. "I've just been too caught up to see it, but thinking back, you've been putting a lot of those techniques to use with Jamie. I only remembered the times when you found it tough and I had to come in to help, not the times when... when it actually worked."

Kurt slips his hands out of Blaine's and twiddles his thumbs. Blaine knows that means he wants to say something but can't quite put it in words, so he waits patiently. Eventually, Kurt mumbles,

"It's not like reading much helps. _You_ are armed with a plethora of experience and yet you can still hit a roadblock sometimes."

"It's about getting used to the kid," says Blaine, his gaze shifting to the drawing block sticking out from below the coffee table.

"Even then," says Kurt, but seems quite unable to continue.

"You know," says Blaine. "I had a kid who had multiple meltdowns in a single day and we were quite at a loss because he just wasn't responding to anything. He couldn't express himself, so all he could do was to scream, bite at his arm and kick the furniture."

Kurt winces.

"We called in his mom and she was crying when she was trying to calm him down. The next day, the kid came to hand in the book that we use to communicate with parents, and the mother had written in the book – _'God help us all.'_" Blaine shuts his eyes. "He's a terribly precocious kid, very bright-eyed and alert, but just very, very sensitive to things. But his mother was feeling the sense of helplessness and it was painful just to read those words."

Kurt remains silent.

"I kinda felt that when Jamie had her meltdown," mutters Blaine. "That same sense of helplessness."

"I didn't realize how hard you were taking all this upon yourself," says Kurt, finally, his voice a little choked. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have landed up in the hospital."

"Oh, Kurt," Blaine whispers. "Don't. This isn't your –"

"I'm sure there's a psychological theory about going from mutual blaming to self-reproaching," says Kurt, dryly.

"We were all tired, Kurt," says Blaine, then suddenly, it's like another set of lens has come over his eyes – he sees that Kurt has half-moon shadows under his eyes and his hair isn't as perfectly coiffed as usual. He wants to lean over to smooth back Kurt's hair, but his fingers are limp. Kurt is not just tired, he's just as _exhausted_. It's just that unlike Blaine, he hasn't keeled over yet.

It's only been two weeks and now, they'll have to carry on for two more.

_Just because we're not married doesn't mean you can –_

Kurt's words had hurt him terribly. They had reminded him that he had taken Kurt for granted, that he had taken their relationship for granted, that he had no right to be imposing all these heavy decisions on Kurt, not when despite their commitment to one another, there was an unspoken understanding that they still had their own young lives to live. Young lives that didn't need to be bogged down by an additional commitment as of now.

Kurt gets up. "Before I go get Jamie, I'm gonna fix dinner. I bought back a rotisserie chicken, and I think we still have enough stuff for a basil, mozzarella and tomato salad. How does that sound?"

Blaine looks at Kurt intently. The word 'family' rolls around at the edge of his tongue, but doesn't quite come out. It's there, but yet it isn't.  
Instead, he nods and says, "That sounds lovely."

-.-.-.-.-.-

Blaine is mostly well by Friday, but he knows better than to overstrain himself at this point in time, so he goes to the LAC for half-a-day just to clear some administrative work. Or rather, his main purpose is to go through the case files of the kids and pull out Jamie's. Everyone is at their various sessions, so he sits in the empty staff lounge, kicks back his shoes and reads her file.

It's not to be a relaxing reading session, however. Blaine finds himself chewing far too generously on his bottom lip just reading the orphanage's report that Jamie had been left there at the age of three by her mother, who was dying of lung cancer. Jamie's father had just left both of them behind then, because he couldn't handle taking care of a dying person and someone who was – in Jamie's mother's words – like a monster.

The bitter taste of iron fills his mouth. He shuts the file and pulls his knees up to his chest. He thinks of the kids whose parents come by and pick them up, and then there are the teenagers and young adults who trudge back to the dormitories, away from the ruckus of parents fussing over their children. None of the young kids at the LAC belong to the latter group, yet Jamie will follow them. She will have a room of her own there, supervised by a handler, and this will be her life for a good amount of time. They would guide her to take care of herself. But to what extent?

Then he thinks of his own parents, who didn't say anything about him but looked at him like – like he was a monster too. He hasn't seen them for years, not since he's left for college. He wonders what they would think if they knew he had a kid in his house. He wonders whether they are thinking of him now.

That's too much wondering for the day.

Blaine goes home to find Kurt back early, seated next to Jamie at the coffee table and watching her draw her circles intently. Blaine notes that there are pencils of all colors scattered messily around the table and can't help smiling when Jamie reaches out to tidy a bunch of them together, only to pick out an orange one. She stares at it for a long time, then Kurt neatly places a piece of paper next to her drawing block.

Blaine crosses over and sits down facing both of them. He doesn't miss the way Kurt's eyes crinkle when Jamie eventually starts drawing orange circles on the blank sheet of paper.

"You have a way with her," whispers Blaine.

"I just get lucky," says Kurt, but there is a hint of a smile lingering at the edge of his lips.

"You do know your stuff," says Blaine, beaming.

Jamie has gone back to drawing blue circles on her drawing block, so Kurt picks up the paper filled with orange circles and stares at it. "_She's_ the one who knows her stuff. She really draws circles very beautifully for someone her age." His smile turns a bit bitter. "Maybe the people at my office might really appreciate her."

Blaine looks kindly at Kurt. "How did the pitch go?"

Kurt puts down the paper. "Kewell is on leave today."

"Oh –" Blaine sits up straight. The silver lining Kurt had been looking for –

"It just made things more straightforward. Levington told me I need to step up my game," says Kurt, pointedly. "When he can't even be bothered to sugarcoat his words, I'm in for some deep shit."

Blaine immediately crosses over to Kurt and slips his hands around Kurt's waist. Kurt relaxes into his embrace, but purses up his lips.

"You've still got it in you," says Blaine, before pressing a kiss against the side of Kurt's neck and eliciting a shudder.

"That's what you always say," mutters Kurt.

"And then you'll ask how I'd know and I will tell you I just know and you won't buy it."

Kurt eyes him skeptically.

"Simply because the Kurt Hummel I know won't stand being stuck in a shithole," says Blaine, wriggling his eyebrows. "He would find some way to emerge out of it with pristine white Doc Martens and a perfectly starched Vivienne Westwood suit with nary a spot..."

"And nary a blemish on my complexion," says Kurt, rolling his eyes. "Blaine, even getting the suit to the dry wash might take longer than the amount of time I have till next Wednesday to submit a new pitch."

Blaine presses a kiss to his cheek. When Kurt doesn't look at him, he knows this is serious. Kurt is scared. Yet, Blaine can't do much because he knows it's Kurt alone who must convince himself that this is the way to go, this is what he wants, and this is all he needs to do.

He turns his gaze to Jamie, who has finished covering her drawing block sheet with circles and is now arranging all the color pencils together. Somehow, she has managed to arrange them in a blended hue of rainbow.

"Hold me closer," whispers Kurt.

Blaine shakes himself out of staring at Jamie and pulls Kurt into a tighter embrace, wishing he didn't have to hear the tinge of loneliness in Kurt's voice.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Jamie has been very good the entire week, and Blaine is very tempted to reward her with a trip outdoors. He thinks of arguing that going outdoors would stimulate Kurt's mind, but somehow the expression on Kurt's face doesn't suggest that he is willing to leave his sketch sheet any moment.

"Would you at least shave some hours off to watch _Ratatouille_?" asks Blaine, innocently. "I'm trying to test if Jamie likes shows of that variety."

"Since when did she ever demonstrate an inkling of watching a rat cooking up French salad?" asks Kurt, looking up from his work skeptically.

Blaine shrugs. "Ever since she's been eyeing you cook the past few days." Kurt opens his mouth to protest, but Blaine beats him to it. "Before you think I'm calling you a rat, I'm merely suggesting that she's rather taken to you making salads for her. It doesn't seem to bore her as fast as me making pasta, and that says a lot considering she was very used to eating pasta at the orphanage."

Kurt goes red. "It's just salad."

"It's a _damn awesome_ salad. How many people get to eat salad with juicy orange cubes, perfectly grilled bacon bits, croutons coated in sweet vinegar, thick crunchy leaves with the faintest aroma of rosemary, white wine and honey..."

"I wonder who's the one who's really gonna enjoy the show," says Kurt, amused and tired all at once as he finally relents and sets himself on the couch. "Don't drool all over me, by the way."

"Aw, come on. I know you love the whole Parisian feel of it," says Blaine, snuggling up next to Kurt. He beckons to Jamie, who is by the television set. "Jamie, come 'ere."

Jamie perks up at the sound of her name first, then she fixes her gaze on Blaine's outstretched hand. She slowly moves over, but her eyes start to wonder. Blaine makes to pick her up, but Kurt gently presses him back into the couch. Instead, Kurt reaches out to tap Jamie on the shoulder, then he calls out her name again and pats the sofa. Jamie blinks rhythmically, then she turns around, backs up against the sofa and leaps up backwards in between Kurt and Blaine. Kurt sits up a little straighter to give Jamie more room.

As they watch the show, Blaine finds himself looking more at both Jamie and Kurt rather than what is on screen. Jamie is staring wide-eyed and occasionally mumbling to herself. Blaine knows that he hasn't exactly walked the talk when it comes to drawing the line between being Jamie's teacher and being her guardian at home, and it must have frustrated Kurt to no end. But he thinks there is nothing more endearing than watching a child engage in something in the most earnest way possible. Maybe that is what draws him to kids with autism. The earnestness and curiosity and innocent wonder seem to be magnified ten-fold in them. That is what Blaine sees in Jamie's gaze, whereas other people might see it as soulless and discomfiting.

But what makes Blaine feel all warm and fuzzy, is when Kurt's hand unconsciously makes its way over to Jamie's hair to ruffle it and she doesn't seem to mind that much. By the end of the show, Jamie's eyes are shut, her head against Kurt's side with his hand still tangled in her hair, and her legs are propped up on Blaine's knees.

Kurt grins. "I guess she wasn't so taken to a salad rat chef after all."

"There might be a difference between ratatouille and your gourmet salad. A big positive one."

"I need to make ratatouille for you one day to change your mind!"

"Honestly, you never thought of being a chef?"

"A chef?" Kurt snorts. Then he looks startled. "You're serious."

"Of course I am. You're really good at conceptualizing food, whipping a storm out of random ingredients and make them look good and taste amazing. I mean, I see why you're a designer, the same skills apply, but..." Blaine taps his chin. "Really, never ever thought about it?"

"No, even though I'd be a hoot Masterchef judge who adds that people's aprons need to complement their food," says Kurt, with a chuckle. Then he sobers. "I've always saw cooking as a necessity, 'cos of my dad's health and all that. I'm always trying new ways to make his food stimulating, appetizing and healthy all at once."

"Whereas the stage, the lights of Broadway, it was – an escape from reality?" Blaine pauses, then he scrunches up his face. "Sorry, I always make many assumptions about you. The last one didn't end too well. I should really stop that."

"But that's a true assumption," says Kurt, smiling warmly. He strokes Jamie's hair as he continues, "The stage, music and acting was where I could dive into being somebody else and sing all my emotions out. It was great catharsis. I guess eventually it somehow morphed into being a hobby more than a career, because I still have to live in reality after all."

"What nonsense. Music is reality."

"Says the man who chose to work with autistic kids instead of becoming a musician."

"Ah," says Blaine, rolling his eyes affectionately. "Here we go."

"You started it," says Kurt. His hand hovers over Jamie's shoulder, then he gently places it down. "I know, though. I know you use music as a way to inspire and grow the children. You've made it reality and it's incredibly inspiring, Blaine." He looks intently at Blaine. "I just thought you should know."

Blaine can feel his whole face glowing.

"Although I still think it's a pity you're not a _proper _musician."

"I am one," says Blaine, his grin widening. "Just in a different way. Music is about emotional connections. I use music to connect with people who would usually find it difficult to connect with the rest of society."

Kurt reaches out for Blaine's hand. "Always about that greater purpose, you."

"I don't deserve to be on whatever pedestal you're putting me on," protests Blaine. "Sometimes I think too highly of myself when it comes to handling the kids, or just anyone with autism. Like how I thought I could manage Jamie on my own and that I wouldn't have to make you feel like it was... you know..." He sighs. "Like a burden."

"Blaine," says Kurt, his eyes widening. "Why are you going back –"

"I just always had that niggling feeling that you weren't very fond of children, despite what you've told me before about how you admire their innocence and all that," says Blaine, shifting his gaze to Jamie. "Not to mention that Jamie needs like tenfold of the patience you think you lack..."

Kurt motions to the sleeping child against him and gestures towards Jamie's bedroom. Together, they gently settle her in Blaine's arms and he carries her into the room, settling her down on the mattress. He tucks her hair gently behind her ears and pulls up the covers.

"Do you ever wonder..." Kurt asks softly from behind. "If we had a child like that?"

Blaine stares at Jamie. She's beautiful; soft, delicate skin and long lashes framed by a curtain of shiny brown hair. She looks like any other girl her age. "She's a special child. I would love a special child."

"You know what I mean, Blaine. I'm not trying to be horrible or anything," says Kurt.

There's a long pause before Kurt continues, "I was afraid. I was afraid when I saw her, and I'm still afraid."

Afraid? Of course Blaine is afraid. He can say a million things to justify that such a child would be beautiful, unique – a gift of love to the both of them, both of them who are also different in their own ways and need love in that unusual yet special way. He wants to tell Kurt that love for a child is unconditional. That dimension of love is so powerful that everything else matters very little. Yet, he knows that if Kurt and him were to have their first child – be it via surrogate or adoption – and if that child that came to them was a special needs child, his own heart would have sunk immediately.

He hates to be reminded of his instinctual sensitivity to differences. He hates to be reminded that despite all the sexuality obstacles Kurt and him have in having a socially and legally acceptable family, something completely unrelated can be the roadblock that could cause their paths to diverge.

"Well," he says as lightly as possible, "We can't all be Neil and David and have twins who look like either of us."

He hears Kurt walk away. Jamie is making little adorable snore sounds, but Blaine sees his hand on hers, where there are the scars of Jamie's scratches. It doesn't hurt there anymore, but it sure does inside, because Blaine knows more than anything that despite all that has happened, despite his training as a therapist who should know better where the line between work and personal life is, despite all his reservations about having a special needs child – he knows that he has fallen deeply in love with this precocious girl and that he would do anything to protect her.

Blaine's heart clenches. He knows (or at least he think he knows) more than anybody else how it's like to be seen as a burden and left behind, seen as somebody different and treated like he needs help. He doesn't want Jamie to have to realize how cruel this world is because he wants her life to be good. He wants her to have the opportunity to be that confident young person that he never got to be early on in his life.

Most of all, he knows that Kurt is the person who would give this girl the confidence to never back down from anything, to stand up for what she wants and who she is, and not take crap from what society has thrown at her.

But how are the next two weeks going to be any different? How is Kurt going to feel any differently?

The cogwheels in Blaine's mind start to whizz, but at the same time, it brings a pounding ache to his head. He shakes the thoughts off; he needs his rest once again, so he gently presses a kiss to Jamie's forehead, leaves the nightlight in the room on and the door ajar. He will go back to his bed with Kurt. For now, he just wants to be with Kurt.

None of them would be lonely tonight.


	8. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Two more days.

Kurt draws in a deep breath. The fact that his deadlines are constant and yet constantly changing as well makes him befuddled and pissed off. It's the freaking same routine all over again. How can people stick to this same, monotonous, irritating routine?! There was a reason why he joined the creative industry. It was _not_ about routine. At. All.

Kitty also chooses this moment in time to saunter past his office with the most _gorgeous_ satin material that she must have imported from some exotic location from some shady person given all the dirty strings she's able to pull. There's also a piece of paper stuck to the back of the material that reads, 'DO NOT DISTURB MY RUNWAY WALK PRACTICE'.

"Careful you don't trip on those claws of yours when all you're seeing is our peeling ceiling, kitty cat!" Kurt yells.

Kitty does an about-turn and pops her head into Kurt's office, smiling not-so-innocently. "Aw, Hummel. Haven't got time to shape yourself like I do?" She waves her beautifully-manicured nails around.

"I'm busy being productive!" Kurt snaps.

Kitty sticks out the tag around her neck, and Kurt scowls as he realizes that Kitty is now a 'Senior Designer' as well. "Thought I might want to warn you before my promotion party at the end of the day, which I will be announcing in ten minutes' time over e-mail."

"Warning taken," says Kurt, unable to stop himself from snarling.

Kitty drapes the shimmery satin all around herself and bats her eyelashes. "You haven't even heard the second one."

Kurt narrows his eyes at her.

"There's only room for one Senior Designer who gets the respect of everybody by way of churning out premium designs all year round," says Kitty, and blows at her nails. "And by virtue of your stagnating right brain and non-existent left one, I'm talking about me."

Kurt grips his pencil tightly. "If you call those slutty, slitty dresses of yours premium designs, you've got your right and left ones all switched up."

"Oh bother, the claws aren't fully unsheathed," says Kitty, mournfully. "I thought I could get some mental stimulation here."

"I'm flattered," says Kurt, coldly. "Go engage in your own verbal masturbation."

"It's good enough for me to get off on it, that's for sure." Kitty blows him a kiss, which he snorts at, then sashays away.

Kurt curses just as his phone buzzes. It's Mercedes, who immediately makes a cheery whistling noise.

"What's the occasion, lady?" asks Kurt, grumpily.

_"Aw come on, it's your first week without the little girl. I'm sure that must be a bright day for you!"_

Kurt's first reaction is to be completely incredulous at Mercedes' chirpy assumptions, then is thoroughly confused for a moment, before he eventually slaps his forehead. "Shucks, Mercedes, I forgot to tell you –"

_"That you're hosting a party?"_

"No, Jamie's still at home."

There's a long pause, and Kurt winces. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm just really caught up with so many things that I didn't –" He thinks of everything that has happened and sighs. "Well, fill you in."

_"What's this, Kurt Hummel?"_ Mercedes sounds annoyed. _"First it's Tina who can't seem to get our Skype times right, and now it's you having your own Secret Life?"_

Kurt makes a frustrated noise. "Mercedes, I have an entire collection's deadline due in two days' time! Forgive me if I haven't –"

_"Okay, hooooold your horses..."_

Kurt clamps up.

_"Sorry, I didn't mean to get irritated!"_ says Mercedes. _"It's just that I feel like I haven't caught up with either of you in so long and now I'm missing out on so many big things. I thought you were so upset the other time that you couldn't wait to have the home back to you and Anderson again, but I didn't want to butt in to find out in case you were really having your hands full..."_

Kurt sighs at Mercedes' woebegone tone. He could simply argue that he hasn't had time to catch up, but really, it isn't any excuse. He remembers when Mercedes always put all things aside to come and comfort him back in their high school days and feels rather guilty that he hasn't kept her in the loop of things when she's been so concerned about him.

"The handler's been found," he mumbles. "Just that she's not ready to take Jamie in yet for another two weeks."

_"Oh, Kurt..."_

"Jamie's fine," says Kurt. "I'm fine. Blaine's fine."

_"When you have to repeat yourself so many times, I know it isn't. But I know better than to disturb you now, so how does dinner over the weekend sound?"_ Mercedes' voice has melted into something more gentle and Kurt can't help smiling.

"That sounds perfect."

_"Righto. I'll catch you at Breadstix at seven on Saturday then, kiddo. Take care, will you?"_

"Always. Mercedes?"

_"Yeah?"_

"I'm glad you called."

_"Me too, hun. Me too."_

Kurt presses the 'end call' button on his phone and rolls his eyes towards the ceiling.

_The Kurt Hummel I know won't stand being stuck in a shithole. He would find some way to emerge out of it with pristine white Doc Martens and a perfectly starched Vivienne Westwood suit with nary a spot..._

Kurt smiles sadly as he looks back down at his white Doc Martens and smoothes down his Vivienne Westwood suit. Blaine's got it backwards though, because Kurt still isn't out of that shithole.

Two more days.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Kurt keeps hoping for something miraculous to happen before him today. Something different, unique, refreshing, unprecedented – just anything that could possibly jolt his spirit and creative mind into action. Instead, he got Kitty's little runway parade which scorched his eyes out, really. Then Sugar spilt coffee on his white designer shoes and called it 'accidental art', of which if he had not been the unfortunate victim, he might have been rather appreciative. He grumbles under his breath as he opens the door and ironically hopes that nothing at home is any different. He is really not ready to deal with any unexpected outbursts or fainting spells.

He stops short and stares.

_I freaking hate routines._

Both Blaine and Jamie are lying on their tummies on top of cushions before a massive sheet of butcher paper, which is covered in multiple big blue-outlined circles. For a moment, Kurt is stunned that Jamie's obsession has obviously blown up in a spectacularly yet horrifying way, and the worst thing is that Blaine is _indulging_ it.

"Blaine..." Kurt arches an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"My head's spinning just by looking at all these too," Blaine says very seriously, as he looks up at Kurt. "It's so confusing. Have you counted how many there are?"

When all Kurt can do is give Blaine the 'what-the-hell' stare, Blaine breaks his serious expression and laughs. "Oh come on, look carefully, Kurt."

Kurt looks again, a little more wearily. But then he tilts his head to the side. Then to the other. Then he takes a step back.

In the first ten to fifteen of those circles that Jamie has drawn, there are all kinds of patterns and shades filled in, like straight lines, criss-crossed lines, polka dots, clashing colors...

"Is that a _pink_ color pencil she's holding?" Kurt stares incredulously.

"Yep," says Blaine, grinning.

"Seriously? Pink circles? With purple lines?" Kurt kneels down before the paper and watches as Jamie colors in the zigzag lines within the circle.

"Shh," whispers Blaine. "Just look."

Jamie colors meticulously, just like the way she likes to ensure her things are neat and the chairs in the classroom are not out of place. Her pencil never deviates from the course of the line and she colors hard and deep. Once she is finished coloring that circle, Blaine doesn't move to guide her in anything, so Kurt just assumes she will go on coloring another circle with the pink pencil, since there are no lines or patterns to follow. To Kurt's utmost amazement, Jamie picks up the blue pencil and starts to draw swirls around the circle. Then she chooses a yellow pencil to color in one half of the swirls, and chooses purple for the other half.

"She knows contrasting colors?" Kurt arches an eyebrow. Then he sits up straight and stares at Blaine. "Wait. Wait a minute. She drew all those patterns herself?"

"Well, I kick-started the first... five, maybe?" Blaine taps his fingers against his cheek.

"How..." Kurt is confused. "How on earth did you manage to get her to move away from drawing circles to coloring?"

"Do you remember the other day when you were getting her to draw different colored circles?" Blaine winks. "I realized then that she's actually very good with mixing and matching colors. I don't know why it's taken me that long to notice. It all makes sense now, you know, that's why she was so annoyed when you gave her the pink pencil the last time, but was okay when I passed her orange."

"Blue and orange are contrasting," says Kurt, in awe. "That's amazing for a six-year-old."

"She could be inventing the latest version of Twister. Like orange with five blue polka dots means you have to put your head on the sheet and five different appendages on other circles."

Kurt shakes his head in resigned amusement.

"I like this one," says Blaine, pointing at one of the circles that is colored in a concentric manner. "Evenly colored, love the shocking contrasts, it's almost psychedelic."

"Disco era," says Kurt, grinning.

"Kinda reminds me of the collection that your colleague Isabelle did before for that really themed fashion show. She went all wacky but somehow the crowd loved it."

"It depends on the context of the showcase," says Kurt. "That one fit perfectly."

"Could imagine a neon concentric circle designed long-sleeved black tee for that one," says Blaine. "Check this one out." He points at an orange-colored circle with bright pink and yellow bits in it. "I'd wear that for a bowtie. Cheers people up instantly."

Kurt is ready to make another comment about how that would fit into a Polly Pocket theme, when something clicks in him. He stares at Blaine, then at all the colored, patterned circles, then at Jamie who is concentrating on filling in the dark red of a circle that's checkered with black squares.

"Or socks," adds Blaine. "I'd wear that one on a sock."

"Did you draw those squares?" Kurt finds his voice rising a pitch.

"Nope, that one's all hers."

"Blaine, that's just – that's just brilliant," says Kurt, slowly. "That color combination is like this season's new trend. The whole wine and black thing."

"Oh?" There's something about Blaine's expression that is slightly distracting, but Kurt shakes it off as he continues,

"I kept thinking of them in solid shades, one next to the other, pairing a wine blouse with black collar, a black belt with wine details... but oh my God, checks... checks! Why didn't I think of that?"

He jabs at another circle. "And this – this dark green and cream. This is a _genius_ combination! And using these diagonal lines too! Oh my –"  
It feels as though the circles have leapt off the paper and started dancing around before his eyes, their colors flashing at him. He stands up and waves his hands to move the circles about.

"Kurt?" Blaine calls softly.

"When she's done with that," says Kurt, his voice cracking. "Pass me that drawing block, will you?"

-.-.-.-.-.-

Kurt pins the last corner of Jamie's drawing block on his office board, then takes a step back to examine it. Then he gets back to his desk and lays out a new sheet of paper. His pencil flies across the space and fills in lines and shades; he picks out different colored pencils and alternates them in between his fingers skillfully. His eyes dart from left to right, top to bottom – past the paper to a photograph framed by his calendar. Him and Blaine close together, dressed to the nines for a re-run of the _Annie_ musical a year ago. Blaine had on a very nice grey suit, maroon hat and a very fancy bowtie with polka dots.

Always that penchant for colorful bowties.

His pencil sets to work again.

When he's done, he leans back in his chair and can't help smiling.

"There you go."

-.-.-.-.-.-

"How's it going?" asks Blaine as he enters the bedroom. He crosses over and Kurt sees him in the reflection of the mirror right in front of his drawing board, ready to put his hands on Kurt's shoulders. He draws back, however, and looks straight at Kurt's reflection. They stare at each other intensely for a while, before Blaine's eyes drop to Kurt's drawing board.

"Is that – is that a _bowtie_?" Blaine's tone of wonder makes Kurt want to giggle, but he keeps his face straight.

"Yep," says Kurt. "I didn't go with disco psychedelic. But I thought Brooks Brothers seasonal, homely chic with Desigual's neon splashes might somehow be the edge I need."

"I never thought those two brands could be featured in the same breath," says Blaine, staring hard at the designs. "But I'm strangely turned on by the scenario of preppy boy meets graffiti artist boy."

"I think you've been reading too much fanfiction," says Kurt. "Oh, hello, look who's here."

Jamie sidles through the door and looks all around. Then she heads to the bed and jumps onto it.

"I hope she's not covered in any sort of color markings, those show up on the sheets," mutters Kurt. "I already have beef with her coloring so hard that there are scratches on the parquet floors outside."

"With all due respect," says Blaine, picking up a bowtie design that Kurt has cut out and fits it against his shirt. "I'm not quite sure how this brings out the edge in a guy."

Kurt's hopeful eyebrows sink down. "It's not working, is it?"

"I think the loudness of the neon is overshadowing the elegance of the plaid."

"So says the boy who digs Brooks Brothers." But Kurt can't keep the disappointment out of his voice.

"Contrasting isn't all about the polar extremes," says Blaine, who finally settles his hands on Kurt's shoulders. "It is also about being complementary. Like... like how blue is cool and orange is warm."

Kurt still can't quite bring himself to meet Blaine's gaze, so Blaine continues, "Kurt, you always tell me that your designs aim to tell a story. The last one you did was for yourself, the whole I-wanna-fit-in-but-I-don't-quite-know-how, and that kilt with studs was a hit with the fashion crowd because it had a story behind it. The story of your prom when you wore it because you wanted to, because you felt it represented how you felt at that point in time."

Kurt finally looks up at Blaine's reflection, then at Jamie behind who is bouncing happily on the bed. "And how you and I are so different in the way we perceive and handle children, but yet we have to work together to make sure that she's okay."

"...Kurt?"

There is something quite unreadable in Blaine's expression once again, but Kurt doesn't want to analyze anything about it at the moment. He brings his pencil to paper and shuts his eyes, trying to visualize all the colors and patterns from Jamie's drawings.

When he's done redoing and cutting out the design, however, Jamie comes over and tugs at his paper.

"Jamie!" Kurt glares at her.

She scrunches up her face and pulls it out of his grasp, startling and annoying him all at once.

"Jesus, Jamie..." He stands up immediately.

Blaine also makes to move towards her, but then Kurt sees something that immediately makes him reach out to press Blaine back.

"Whoa," says Blaine.

Jamie has put the dark green-and-cream striped design against her body and is staring down at it.

"That's a lovely match for her skin color," Blaine remarks.

Kurt stares. "It – is."

"Why that particular design?"

"I –" Kurt finds that the words are dying on the tip of his tongue when he's still trying to figure out the image before him.

"The dark green evokes a kinda – very harsh, deep-seated emotion," he says, finally. He unconsciously grabs at the front of his shirt. He _knows_ what that emotion is, but he can't bring himself to say it. "And I love how the cream tempers it, makes it softer and creates a picture of... of calm serenity."

He and Blaine exchange looks.

"On a... bowtie?" Blaine is obviously fighting to keep his face straight.

"A coat," says Kurt, slowly. "A coat that covers her, obscuring her from who she really is."

Then he suddenly thinks of the orange circle with pink and yellow bits, then the blue one with orange stripes. He looks at Jamie and thinks of those patterns materializing under that coat – as a dress.

Kurt sits down hard. "Oh my God. Blaine."

Blaine grins. "I think we're heading somewhere."

A whole lot of drawing, coloring and cutting later, Kurt and Blaine find themselves in the Creative Room with an armful of design cutouts and a little girl.

"Why is she still so awake at this hour? I thought only I get to have the creative license to be nocturnal."

"No, it's because you're nocturnal that you have the creative license. Which means tonight might be a good time to engage her since clearly, for some reason, she is at her peak creativity moment."

"It's past midnight, Blaine. If she suffers thirty years down the road because I let her sleep less than five hours now..."

"It's all Kewell's fault. Not mine. Not yours."

"Will she hate me for this?"

"You might want to try explaining to her first."

"Ha. You're always getting me into deep shit and pulling me out of it all at once. Trying to be the hero, Anderson?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh yeah. I do. You're the one that set all this up. _I know._"

"Set what up?"

Kurt snorts. "You _knew_ that somehow, Jamie's drawings would inspire me."

Blaine scoffs. "And how was I supposed to know what can really make that creative spark in you flare up?"

"I don't know. You surprise me most of the time." Kurt isn't looking at Blaine, but he can feel him smile next to him.

"You too, you know," says Blaine. "And therefore... you should give it a go." He pushes Kurt forward lightly.

"Must I?" wails Kurt.

They both look at Jamie in front of them, who's all wide awake and actively stacking blocks of different colors up in precise order of the colors of the rainbow.

"Seriously, what did she do at the LAC today such that she still has so much energy?"

"Maybe Mike made her sit still during his lesson," says Blaine, in all seriousness. "Accumulated potential energy. Now if you continue like that, you're not even going to be accumulating any!"

Kurt breathes in deeply. "Here goes."

He spreads the cutouts of designs that he has made in real sizes – in frocks, coats, shorts, skirts... then he scoots back and looks hopefully at Jamie.

The sheer amount of color and patterns completely captures Jamie's attention. She knocks the blocks over as she makes her way over to one of the designs and picks it up.

"What's that, Jamie?" asks Kurt, his voice _very_ high-pitched now.

Even though the designs are loose pieces of fake clothing, they do look very authentic, so Jamie has no trouble replying, "Skirt!"

"And where do you wear a skirt?" asks Blaine.

Jamie smacks it against her thighs, then twirls around.

"Very good, Jamie!" Blaine enthuses.

"I need to take a picture," says Kurt, whipping out his camera phone at once. "Okay, Jamie, wait – don't move, no, don't..."

Jamie has picked up the next design, but she obviously doesn't want to face Kurt. Kurt tries to edge over to face her instead, but she keeps twisting away.

"I don't really think she likes the camera very much," says Blaine, grinning.

"I have no model?" Kurt moans. "_You_ get over there and be one!"

"Ha. Very funny," says Blaine, watching as Jamie places the next design on her. "You have one more day to convince her that you need her."

Kurt feels Blaine's arm snake around his waist, and he lets himself lean against Blaine.

"Do you remember," says Blaine, gently. "That you said that you thought you couldn't connect with Jamie through drawing?"

Kurt snuggles more into Blaine's embrace. Of course he remembers. He doesn't quite see how this counts as a connection, but Jamie being thoroughly invested in picking out his designs does seem strangely warm and comforting.

"Give me your phone," whispers Blaine, his warm breath making the hairs at the nape of Kurt's neck tingle. "And go work with her."

Without thinking much, Kurt hands over his phone and moves over to help Jamie play with the designs. Jamie even bursts out laughing when Kurt places some designs near her feet as socks, and ends up overbalancing and hitting her bottom on the floor.

"Oh my –" gasps Kurt, but Jamie is still laughing. She makes grabby-hands at Kurt's fabric and places it near her feet herself.

"Sock!" She grins triumphantly.

Kurt breaks into a huge smile just watching her squeal in delight at another design that she had surfaced from the pile and put against her chest. He helps her smooth out the design against her shoulders and she stares at him with bright, happy eyes. Kurt has never seen the little girl so excited and can't help thinking that she looks absolutely beautiful when she's calm and happy.

He voices that aloud as he tucks her hair behind her ears. "You're so beautiful, Jamie."

Jamie's stare no longer seems harsh to him, not when it's matched with upturned lips. She even reaches out to put the design against Kurt and makes him laugh uncontrollably.

"Kurt is handsome!" Jamie trills.

Kurt stares at her, then looks up at Blaine, who has just lowered Kurt's phone to meet his gaze. "She – she just –"

"You're beautiful," says Blaine, gently lowering himself to plant a kiss on Kurt's forehead and to ruffle Jamie's hair. "_Both_ of you."

-.-.-.-.-.-

Kurt can't help feeling frustrated when it is so difficult to get Jamie to cooperate with a camera; she refuses to model for him, choosing to instead face the wall and swing the printed fabric around. He doesn't want to force her; he'd much rather keep her in this chirpy mood than risk having her turn against him. Yet he knows he can't present 2D designs to Levington and Kewell, and wonders for the umpteenth time that day if he had made the right choice.

"Jamie," he says, tersely. "Eyes over here."

She starts to sing and dance around with the fabric.

Kurt groans loudly.

"Kurt?" A voice calls from outside.

Kurt massages his forehead, then heads towards the living room where Blaine is sitting in front of the computer (as he has been doing for the whole day).

"Sit down," says Blaine, a little too eagerly. "You need a break."

"Blaine, I relented for Ratatouille. I'm really _not_ in the mood to watch a YouTube video."

"C'mon..." He looks at him with puppy-dog eyes.

"Don't do that!" Kurt tilts his head back.

When Blaine doesn't respond, he looks back down again – only to groan when he realizes Blaine is still looking at him pleadingly.

"You son of a –" Kurt sighs, then squints at the screen. "_Circle of Life?_ Really, Blaine? A Lion King video?"

Blaine slips an arm around his waist and pulls him closer before pressing the 'play' button. Kurt remains skeptical, not least by the opening words of the video that go, "_Presenting Kurt Hummel's newest collection..._"

"Um..."

The strains of a light acoustic guitar accompanying a soft voice that is undoubtedly Blaine's float through the speakers. It's a new original song, and Kurt loves the soothing tune of it all. Before he can piece things together, the video transitions to a scene that is extremely familiar.  
It's from the night before, where Kurt and Jamie are playing around with the designs. Jamie is squealing with laughter while Kurt is giggling along. Kurt doesn't realize how delighted he had been until he sees himself in the video, crinkly-eyed and doubling over every time Jamie posed – _yes, posed _– with the cutouts against herself. Yet, the best part is that he can tell that Jamie is obviously enjoying herself as well, just like any other kid would have at her age playing dress-up. Blaine's gentle crooning complements the simple happiness in the video, even if the video isn't professionally taken (obviously taken using Kurt's phone – how could he have missed that?).

"I know it doesn't really show off the designs that much," admits Blaine, scrunching up his face as he looks at Kurt. "But I thought it could work as a side-show of sorts. All the colors and patterns form some kind of story to you – your stories, Kurt. This video just starts it off, but they're your stories to tell."

Kurt is completely speechless. It already astounds him when Blaine is able to read his mind at times, but for him to project ahead and extend Kurt's train of thought – that completely floors him. He grips Blaine's hand and meets his boyfriend's shining gaze. Then he looks back at the video and points to the settings, where it's marked 'private'.

"I'll release the video as public when you get to showcase your collection," says Blaine. "And that will be the release of my first single of my new EP."

"Y-your new EP?" Kurt wonders aloud, still recovering from the shock of the video.

Blaine smiles. "Well, I suppose a music therapist can always have a hobby, can't he?"

When Kurt doesn't say anything again, Blaine's enthusiasm dims. "Tell me I'm not making assumptions again."

"Blaine Anderson, I love you," is all Kurt says, and he presses his lips softly against Blaine. The two of them stay like that for a while, and Kurt revels in the warmth and simplicity of it all. Until Jamie comes running over, shrieking and leaps onto the two of them, nearly knocking Blaine's laptop over.

"Jamie!" Kurt yelps, scandalized, but not overly irritated. "Oh my God, did Quinn Fabray say she used to be a quiet child? When did that ever happen?!"

Blaine laughs as he reaches out to envelop both of them. "Since we came into her life."

Jamie snuggles into their embrace by nosing at their arms. Then she turns around and looks up at them. She pulls a gelled curl from Blaine's head free, fluffs Kurt's tufted hair, then proceeds to pat down her own hair, earning laughs from both Kurt and Blaine.

At that moment, Kurt knows that it's not only Blaine who manages to surprise him.

-.-.-.-.-.-

For the most part, the prototype collection presentation goes smoothly. Kurt can't really say that it went 'well', not when Kewell still made snide comments about how Kurt is trying to "corrupt the innocent with such garish designs".

He looks at Levington instead and puts on a most hopeful expression. "How'd you think then?"

"Kurt," says Levington, slowly. "You've never done a kids' collection before."

"No," says Kurt.

"Have you researched about the different brands and their inspirations? What is it about your line that will make you stand out above the rest?"

To his dismay, Kurt realizes that in his desperation to churn out something, coupled with his euphoria at having discovered something so close to his heart in these designs, he had completely neglected the competitive angle of fashion design. And Kewell can obviously tell, for his smirk is growing wider by the second.

"Well," says Kurt, his quick mind whirring into action, "there are some who design purely for aesthetic appeal – like..." He can't really think of any brands at the moment, so he just rattles on, "Like it's all about the colors. Bright color palette for dress-up purposes." Kurt can tell both Levington and Kewell aren't really buying it, so he tries to go a different way. "Some design for the little ones of the adult clientele that they are used to. Like how Osh Kosh B'gosh is about intergenerational connections. Or that they design to make give the little ones a grown-up edge, like many of the posh, up-market brands like Prada and Gucci and all that."

He takes a deep breath, then points to his designs. "But mine is about layers. Kids are such pure, innocent and beautiful little ones, but sometimes they hide behind all these layers because they have been hurt, bullied or scared in some way or another that we adults don't always see."

Kurt remembers all these stories, stories that were written on the faces of kids in his elementary school, the ones who paraded down the streets in fancy costumes and laughed at him because of his chubby cheeks and high-pitched voice. The ones who continued to do the same when they grew older, and even as they shed their old layers, they grew new ones.

"The girl who wants to dress up like her mother hides behind a fur coat and high heels because she thinks it gives her an air of confidence that others will respect and not laugh at her for. The boy who wears a leather jacket to hide the t-shirt he has beneath because he knows people would laugh at the nerdy stuff he has on his shirt – the ones he only shows a certain group of people in school. But more than that..."

He thinks of the little boy staring back at him in the mirror, as he points to a highly contrasting-colored outfit, "The child who is special but when is ridiculed in his own style, he has to wear another that doesn't match him at all." He thinks of Jamie as he points to a dress with mixed patterns. "The child who doesn't even realize how special she is because she sees logic in chaos but people think she creates chaos in logic instead."

"Oh my God," says Kewell, running his hand through his curly brown hair dramatically. "What bullshit is this?"

Kurt can feel his cheeks burn. "It's not –"

"It is," says Kewell, coldly. "You didn't even read up!"

"I –" Kurt protests.

But Levington is staring very closely at the designs. Then to Kurt's surprise, he laughs. "Kewell, if that's bullshit, that's some grand one. I've never heard somebody talk about such huge color and pattern contrasts with such genuine belief in creating harmony out of it."

"Come _on_, you're not going to give him another –"

"I am," says Levington, and Kurt's heart immediately soars. "Even if it's something he crapped up, I like it. You know what I always say about fashion, Kurt?"

"It's about communication. Expression."

"That's right. It speaks volumes about the person who wears it, and I like that even for a kid, so much can be said about the kid who wears it – or who doesn't _want_ to wear it the way it ought to be worn."

Kurt sighs with inward relief. This is exactly why he has chosen to work in this company. For all of Kewell's ridiculous antics, Levington embodied the soul and spirit of fashion.

"You get your collection," says Levington, and Kurt whoops in delight. "I want your stories to shine through so make sure you put together a cohesive and engaging narrative. I'm getting the vibe that this is the year of life stories, Kewell. I like that!"

Kewell rolls his eyes.

"So Kurt, who or what inspired you to come up with this?" asks Levington, drumming his fingers on the table. "It's not your usual style - you're bold, but this is definitely very out of the blue in my opinion."

"Well," Kurt can't help smiling at the irony that a girl so used to routine has got him out of his creative funk, "there's this little girl in my house..."

"Your daughter?" Levington lights up.

"But he's gay," Kewell interjects, frowning.

This is why Kurt is so sure that in a few years' time, the company will most certainly read _Levington & Hummel's_.

-.-.-.-.-.-

"WHOOO!" Blaine enthuses as the cork pops out of the champagne bottle. Kurt grins as he watches, hands clasped together.

"To the successful line of clothing to be lovingly and beautifully designed by Kurt Hummel, and unwittingly and charmingly inspired by Jamie Chase," says Blaine, as he pours the champagne into two glasses. "Even though Jamie Chase gets none of this."

"I want!" Jamie yells, bouncing up and down in the living room. "I want!"

Kurt eyes Blaine. "You might want to give her a code name next time. Less triggering."

"You catch on fast."

"Uh-uh, Jamie," says Blaine, even as Jamie charges towards him, her hands outstretched for his glass. "It's not good for you. You are still young."

"You _can't_ hoodwink her," says Kurt, affectionately.

"I need to train her not to get drunk at your fashion after-parties," protests Blaine. "She'd be a star..." He trails off as Kurt looks at him meaningfully.

"If she gets to go," says Kurt, and he manages a light shrug.

Just at the moment, the phone rings and startles Jamie, completely distracting her from her mission to pry the glass out of Blaine's hand. She rushes towards the phone, now an automatic reaction on her part, and hands it over to Blaine. Kurt can't help thinking back to when he had first asked her to do that.

Blaine whispers, "Good girl, thanks," before he answers the phone. Kurt tips the champagne into his mouth, relishing the burn of the fizzy liquid against his throat. Then he motioned towards Jamie and set her in his lap. Both of them watched as Blaine's thick eyebrows furrowed together.

"If it's Santana, please swear and cuss at her on my behalf," says Kurt, cupping Jamie's ears as he said so, although she squealed and tried to dodge his hands. "You know it doesn't come out nearly as foul when it comes from my mouth."

Blaine looks like he's trying very hard to keep his face straight, so Kurt decides not to bother him and go set the table instead. Still, he can't help but continue saying, "And if it's Tina, tell her to call Mercedes and be a good friend and impart more gossipmongering skills. Oh, and if Artie is interested in turning a Skype video of you performing your new single into some classy YouTube hit, I'm all for it too."

He pauses. "Or maybe it's –"

The sound of the television distracts him. Blaine has just switched it on, the phone still at his ear, and the news is showing Mayor Russell Farland raise his hands in victory as he gets re-elected for another term. Reporters clamor around him to ask about his feelings and thoughts for the future, and he speaks lavishly about wanting to create more opportunities for family time and for children's education and adjust property prices.

Somebody asks him if all this in preparation for a desire to have a family of his own. Mayor Farland proudly claims that he is expecting a new child with his new wife, and everybody cheers.

Kurt feels something rise in him and marches over to shut the television off. "He's disgusting. As much as I don't like Quinn Fabray, it's probably because she had the unfortunate genes of this man to battle with."

Blaine puts the phone aside. "Genetics can't even bind people together, and yet these conservatives come up with arguments about how families can't be defined otherwise."

Kurt looks at him. "So who was it?"

"Sue."

"Oh." Kurt's teeth catch at his bottom lip. His eyes dart towards Jamie, who is mumbling to herself and tracing imaginary circles in the air as she leans against the kitchen table. "Did she ask you to hang on for a couple weeks more? She might as well work out the total sum before she gets back to us, it's kinda getting annoying like this."

"No," says Blaine, quietly. "The handler is ready now."

"Ready?" Kurt asks, but he already knows what Blaine means.

"We'll have to send Jamie to the LAC tomorrow." Blaine swallows hard. "For good."


	9. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Kurt twiddles with his thumbs as he looks all around the general office of the Lima Autism Center. It's certainly not the best of designs when polished, abstract art framed with gilded corners are alternated with crayon drawings of real and fantastical living creatures. Yet, it's strangely calming, like it fits this place perfectly. Kurt squints a little and chuckles at a picture of a broccoli tree with gummy bears sitting on its branches, all decked out in Crayola glory.

"Jamie?" Kurt asks softly, once he has noticed the artist's name. "Do you know a girl called Brittany?"

Jamie doesn't answer him; she's busy mumbling to herself and twitching her fingers against the seat. Kurt's not sure how well Blaine's prep would be for her – he's been prepping her since last night, from their house all the way to the LAC, about how Kurt will be coming to the LAC with them today, and how she needs to wait in the general office with him for a while and she will be going to a new place. From her rather lukewarm response, Kurt can't quite tell if it's because she can't quite comprehend yet, or that she doesn't care.

He chooses not to think too much.

Blaine comes out from the staff room entrance, his lips tightly pressed together. Kurt gives him a questioning look, but he only shrugs and walks over to sit on the other side of Jamie.

"I feel like we're here to see the doctor," mutters Kurt.

"I told Sue to her face that she should have known better," says Blaine. "I had the whole prep-her-one-week-in-advance thing planned out. Even Quinn Fabray knew how to prep Jamie way in advance of her move to the LAC so that she could remind her steadily every day. To spring this on us and expect us to prep her in a day? That's just ridiculous and uncalled for!"

"At least we're doing it at the Centre, where many more people can help if anything... " Kurt hesitates. "You know, if anything goes wrong."

"Yeah," says Blaine, staring at his hands. "I've got Mike and Emma on standby. Santana needs to work an extra hour with Brittany today."

Kurt's gaze travels to the painting on the wall again. "I thought Santana said she doesn't specialize in dealing with – oh," it dawns upon him, and he feels incredibly silly for assuming, "Brittany's not a kid, is she?"

Blaine chuckles humorlessly. "No, but she can be more perceptive than any adult."

Kurt looks back at Jamie and starts to comb her hair with his fingers.

"Jamie?" Blaine grabs both Kurt and Jamie's attention with his smooth but firm voice. "Show me listening ears."

Jamie automatically puts her hands behind her ears, even though her eyes keep darting to the side instead of focusing on Blaine.

"And eyes on me," says Blaine.

Once he has gotten Jamie's full attention, he takes a deep breath and says, "Jamie, do you remember, we are going to meet a new friend?"

"Yes," says Jamie.

"The new friend is a friend of all of us," he gestures to Kurt and himself, "and she's very nice."

"You already know who it is?" Kurt whispers.

"I know it's a lady," Blaine whispers back, then he shows Jamie a visual that he had drawn and shown her earlier. There is a checkbox where Jamie has ticked 'okay' with regards to her meeting the new friend. He has now added a new set of instructions involving the fact that Kurt and Blaine are busy and cannot take care of Jamie anymore. This is followed by two options – one says 'Jamie stays at LAC, alone.' and 'Jamie stays at LAC, with new friend'.

Kurt feels the back of his throat constrict as he listens to Blaine explain slowly, but firmly, how they can't be taking care of Jamie anymore. After all, that was the whole point in the first place. They just _can't_. It would take a toll on them, and there would be the thick, lingering tension in the air that Kurt hates.

Yet, it feels like a lie at the same time.

Blaine gently hands over the blunt pencil (he is obviously prepared for another pencil-stabbing moment) and gestures to the two checkboxes on the paper. "Jamie, please choose."

It's emotional manipulation, Kurt thinks bitterly. It seems like they get choices, but the choices have been rigged because 'normal' people frame things the way they hope to see it go. It makes him think of how Kewell always tries to sell his ideas, or his protégés' ideas through the logical business angle, as opposed to Levington's usual take on spontaneity and creativity, and somehow, that will obviously get him what he wants because nobody dares to really argue against profits.

Blaine's the best at the LAC in terms of empowerment, but even he can't run away from diminishing the individual's capacity for discernment and self-responsibility.

Jamie doesn't take the pencil. She stares at Blaine impassively instead.

"Jamie," coaxes Blaine, but Jamie's hands remain firmly planted on the seat. She swerves her head a little to look at Kurt, who directs her towards the paper.

"It's Math now," announces Jamie, loudly. "Math time."

Blaine flips the paper around, where he has previously shown her a revised timetable. "It's okay, Jamie. Look at the date. Today you have a special timetable, remember?"

Jamie trails her finger against the block that now says 'Time at School Office'. Then she lets her finger drop and she looks elsewhere.

"What does that even mean?" Kurt wonders aloud, but Blaine has no time to respond because the Lima Autism Center's principal, Sue Sylvester, struts her way out of her office to stare at the both of them. Kurt has seen her before, but the imposing figure in a one-colored tracksuit, sharp cheekbones and a death glare never fails to make him swallow hard.

"In my office," she says, even though it comes out more like a snarl.

Blaine takes Jamie's hand and leads her – she waves her empty hand at Kurt, who takes it gently and both of them walk her into Sue's office.

"Well, well, if it isn't young Burt Reynolds' dough-faced boy," says Sue, once they're seated, prompting Blaine to make a frustrated noise and Kurt's eyebrows to shoot up. "How's the American dream working out for you two?"

"Miss Sylvester," says Blaine, clearly annoyed. "I've already said my piece earlier. You said you'd like to give this piece of information to us both. Please get to the point."

"Which is," adds Kurt, "who is the handler?"

"Her name is Shelby Corcoran," says Sue, "A talent manager from L.A., she's recently decided to reside in Lima for personal reasons... and she'd like this part-time job till she manages to settle whatever personal stuff she has."

Kurt can't believe his ears. "You mean, she's going to up and leave anytime she finishes her 'personal stuff'?"

"As long as she's willing to take the job, I'd be happy to meet whatever arrangements she has," says Sue, putting on her spectacles. "Now to move on..."

"Which could be, like, as short as a week?" Kurt exchanges unhappy looks with Blaine. "Miss Sylvester, this doesn't –"

"Well, I'm taking Jamie off your hands," says Sue, in a clipped tone. "It doesn't really matter, does it?"

"Of course it does!" Kurt retorts. "We can't let Jamie have so many changes in routine!"

"I want to go to Math class!" wails Jamie.

"Wish all the normal kids in the world could say the same!" quips Sue.

"Miss Sylvester, couldn't you have found a more permanent candidate?" asks Blaine, putting his arm around Jamie to calm her down.

"It's not so easy finding people who are willing to dedicate half their days and most of their nights to be handlers for autistic kids, as I'm sure _you two_ would understand after what you've been through for just two weeks or so," snaps Sue, and Kurt and Blaine instinctively lean back. "Jamie's the first young kid who needs to stay over here that we've had to work with, so I'd appreciate the cooperation from both of you instead of trying to work out your alpha gay issues here!"

"Wh-" Kurt shakes his head. "Do we even get to meet Miss Corcoran?"

"She's coming in the afternoon," says Sue. "Now as I was saying –"

"Math!" Jamie shouts, and everyone turns to look at her. Blaine immediately fishes out the paper with all the choices written down, but Jamie is already squirming out of her seat. "Math class!"

"I'll go and get Emma," says Kurt, at once.

"No, no, it's Marley I need here," says Blaine, as he struggles to hold onto Jamie. "Of all people, I forgot to ask – Miss Sylvester, could you please call Marley over?"

"Jamie needs to learn," says Sue, frowning. "If you have already done all the necessary preparation –"

Kurt can already sense that Jamie is not going to listen to reason right now. She has been listening to it all day long and it's clear to him that she isn't taking in much. "I think we've done _enough_ preparation. Now we just need to calm her down. Who's Marley?"

Sue glares at them both, then finally picks up the phone.

"Jamie –" Blaine begins, but he can't quite continue. Jamie is now getting so agitated that she's starting to kick out once more, and the sight of it makes Kurt's insides clench. He quickly moves away the chairs so that Blaine can tilt Jamie towards the empty space and let her kick out.

Kurt takes the timetable from Blaine and tries to direct it at Jamie. He begins to explain, but it doesn't work because Jamie is suddenly thrashing about madly. Even Sue has to come over to attempt to help.

"Oh man..." gasps Blaine, as he tries to hold her still, but he loses his grip. "We need to get her to the Soft Room!"

"Soft Room?" Kurt can't help asking, even as he reaches out to help hold onto Jamie. Instead, he nearly gets kicked in the face and stumbles back. It triggers an immediate flashback to Jamie's severe meltdown back at home and he has a hard time swallowing that back down again.

"It's a cushioned room," snaps Sue, already heading towards the door. "Alright, hurry!"

But before they can hurry out, Blaine lets out a cry and Kurt watches in horror as Jamie slips out of Blaine's grasp. All of them attempt to grab onto her, but Jamie has already hit the floor with a thud.

"Oh my God!" yells Blaine, as he quickly helps Jamie up, whose crying and screaming has increased tenfold. "Her head!"

"We need to get her to a hospital, _stat_!" Kurt grits his teeth when he brings his hand to rub Jamie's head and it comes away slightly bloody. "Ohhhh fu–"

A young lady comes into the room amidst the commotion and gasps loudly. "Oh my, Jamie!"

Right now, Kurt can't just believe that he is in the presence of special need professionals.

"Can we just get her to the hospital NOW?!"

-.-.-.-.-.-

Once again, he is waiting, only now with a heart rate three times faster.

He sure did bring her to see the doctor after all.

Kurt's hands have been numb and shaking for the past few hours. From the weight of carrying Jamie to the car, to his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly, to slamming his palms against the wooden tabletop of the reception counter when nobody seemed to be getting the sense of urgency involved... in addition, his ears are partially blocked from all the yelling that Jamie and Sue had been doing.

Well, maybe he was part of that yelling crowd too.

It's barely a month and he's been at the hospital twice already. He hates the disinfectant smell of the hospital, the too-bright lights, the clinical clinks of the metal equipment...

Most of all, he hates the waiting.

He leans his head back against the wall. It's not like it was anything unexpected. The rushed preparation and constant movement had gotten Jamie all confused; naturally, she wouldn't be comfortable. Out of the corner of his left eye, he sees the girl who had come in at the end of the commotion, pale-faced and arms pressed tightly against her chest. That has to be Marley, the therapist who uses Math lessons to work with the kids. Kurt wants to tell her that this really has nothing to do with her and that she can go back to her classes, but he can't quite get himself to speak. As for Sue, she's long headed back, muttering something about having to deal with parents back at the LAC who needed an explanation for some curriculum matters.

Blaine settles down next to Kurt and hands him a cup of coffee, which Kurt receives gratefully with his shaking hands.

"Kurt?" Blaine whispers, and huddles next to him, a comforting hand on his back. "Kurt, talk to me."

"N-nothing," says Kurt, putting the coffee just under his nose to feel the warm tendrils of steam curl up against his skin. "It's nothing."

He shuts his eyes for a while, as Blaine rubs slow, soothing circles on his back. "It's just – I don't like hospitals. There was my mom... then my dad's close shave... and then you," his voice cracks a little, "and now Jamie. I just – I just feel like my heart is going to leap out anytime."

"Come 'ere," whispers Blaine, as he tucks Kurt's head against his neck and curls his arm around Kurt. "Nobody could possibly like hospitals. Other than – other than your mom, I mean, your dad and I – we got better, Kurt." He tightens his grip. "Jamie will get better."

"Hope so," says Kurt, limply.

"She _will_," says Blaine, firmly. "I've accompanied kids in and out of hospitals over these few years; the only thing that keeps me calm and sane is the belief that they'll be fine."

Kurt doesn't want to ask if Blaine has been disappointed in that belief before.

Just then, Blaine's phone buzzes. "It's Santana," he says. "She says Brittany's in a bad mood today so she can't spare time now, but she'll be over as soon as she can."

Kurt nods numbly. "'Kay."

There's a short silence before Blaine muses, "Do you know... I once stayed at the hospital for half a year?"

"Eh?" Kurt tilts his head up, confused. He shoots a quick look at Marley, who – bless her soul – gets the hint and stutters that she needs to go to the washroom and hurriedly disappears out of sight. Kurt turns back to Blaine, bewildered. "But – the nurse told me just two weeks ago that it was your first time entering the hospital."

"I didn't come to _this_ hospital," says Blaine. "I went to a dingy one in Westerville and I made them not transfer my records over."

Kurt pulls away from Blaine's embrace and stares. "Half a – when – when was this?"

"Fifteen. I repeated a year in middle school because I spent half of the previous year lying in bed here," says Blaine, in a matter-of-fact tone.

Kurt has never heard this story before, so he just gapes.

"I went to a Sadie Hawkins dance with a guy... I had just come out then," says Blaine, his voice dropping into a shaky whisper. "We had _such _a blast, Kurt. It could have been one of the best nights in my life because I wasn't afraid of anything. It was so... so empowering even."

He closes his eyes. "And then after the whole thing, there were these guys who came over... they called us names, they dragged us to the alley... and they beat the living crap out of us."

Kurt doesn't quite know how to respond. The mental image is too horrible for him to bear. His whole face is heating up as he struggles to put his thoughts into words. Finally, he chokes out, "Why... why didn't you tell me this before?"

Blaine gives a fake laugh. "When you meet – the most beautiful, most confident and most loving boy in the world, why would you want to remind yourself of what your world was like without this boy? Why would you want even the slightest bit of shadow in that world to enter that boy's life?"

Kurt shudders involuntarily just thinking of Blaine, all battered and bruised in a dark alley. "Blaine... I'm – so... I'm so sorry... all the times that I assumed you didn't understand what it felt like to be judged because I always thought your problem was your parents... oh my God, I'm so sorry..." He leans his forehead on Blaine's shoulder.

"Don't be," says Blaine, his voice softening. "Not when you are the boy who chased that shadow away."

Kurt intertwines his fingers with Blaine's. It's very easy for him to think that in the small town of Lima, Ohio, he's the only one who has had to deal with being a gay man whose entire life has been put under scrutiny and ridicule, and that has been a tormenting period of time.

But then there's Blaine, whose sunshine personality makes it so difficult to believe that he has had to deal with so much. When Kurt first met him, he was almost jealous that Blaine was not just open about his sexuality, but also extremely comfortable and confident. Over the years, he did see the layers get peeled away to reveal insecurities, but it is only now that he really sees that the layers are pulled over to protect himself from traumatic memories.

"Your –" Kurt knows it's a sensitive topic, but he feels like he should ask anyway. "Your parents. Did they not –?"

"They were overseas half the time; I managed to get someone go to my place and bring all my stuff to the hospital. Then I lied to my parents and said I was staying in the boarding school," says Blaine, quietly. "_His _parents took good care of us while we were both stuck with tubes. When I came home from the hospital, part of me still remained in bandages. I just told them I got into some massive fight while signing out of campus – and I got grounded." He laughs mirthlessly. "Well, it's not like I needed stitches or anything, mostly internal bruising, so they didn't suspect much."

Kurt responds by gripping Blaine's hand even more tightly.

"We all judge, Kurt," says Blaine, leaning back onto the wall. "It's very easy to judge people. The way their hair or clothes are styled or colored, the way they speak or move, the type of language or accent they use. Then it gets uncomfortable when you get to know their personality, their backstories, their life and guess what, we end up realizing nothing quite matches up. Usually we'd try to shift a bit, you know, adjust our mindsets a little such that we feel a bit better about these people. We see them a little differently, bit by bit each day. I used to tell myself, my parents would too. After all, what more your own son, eh?"

He shakes his head. "But when it comes down to it, I end up seeing _myself_ a little more differently each day. At some point in time, I look at myself in the mirror and think every inch of me is _wrong_."

Kurt knows exactly how that feels. He remembers looking into the mirror, staring at a boy wearing the flannel shirt, puffy vest and baseball cap and trying to stick out his chin, and feeling horrible for feeling like an alien in an outfit that his father would probably highly approve of. He remembers telling himself amidst the tears trickling down his cheeks, that he would never let his kid feel the same way.

He must have said the last bit aloud, because there was a sharp intake of breath next to him. Blaine is looking at him wide-eyed.

"What?" asks Kurt, defensively.

Blaine smiles weakly. "Nothing. The last time you talked about a hypothetical kid, it was to tell me that you were afraid he or she would be like Jamie."

Kurt hangs his head. "I didn't used to think that much."

There's a pregnant pause before Blaine whispers, "What about Jamie?"

Kurt doesn't answer; he just clasps his fingers together.

"Do you..." Blaine swallows hard. "Do you think there would have been a chance? You know, if we had to take care of her longer..."

Kurt lifts his head up and looks at Blaine, then back at his fingers. "I dunno. Maybe... well. I – you know... I thought you would have been the one to champion that thought."

Blaine draws in a shuddered breath. "Kurt... I've _dreamt _about it."

He takes another deep breath, then continues, "I just... I always thought you saw her as somebody we're _taking in_, that we're _helping_ and that was what I thought so too at first. Sometimes right at the end of the day, I'd think, this is it. I can't take it anymore either. It's one thing to handle them in school, but to have to handle them at home – it's beyond exhausting."

Blaine shakes his head. "But then it's like a big line that has been crossed and I can't turn back. I started to... I started to really feel something with her, you know, something..." He gestures wildly.

Kurt can feel his heart thundering as he reaches out to take Blaine's hands into his.

"Blaine? I know."

Blaine stares. "You... know?"

"I –"

The room door swings open, and Kurt and Blaine immediately leap up to accost the doctor.

"How's she?!" "What degree of trauma did she face?" "Is her memory affected? Sight?" "Is it ok if we go and – oh my God, her whole head is bandaged in –"

The doctor holds up both hands. "Whoa. Which one of you is her father?"

Kurt and Blaine exchange looks.

"We're her guardians," Blaine bursts out. "Now can we just skip the whole legalities thing and find out if my girl's okay?"

-.-.-.-.-.-

Given that Jamie had suffered a hard knock, it seems like there remains a chance of concussion and hence, she would have to stay in the hospital for a few more days for scans and further observation. The doctor reassures both Kurt and Blaine that at the moment, all seems to be fine. Nonetheless, Blaine postpones the meeting with the handler and takes leave to take care of Jamie; Kurt doesn't need to since he has been given time off to work on his collection from home.

Kurt brings his designs to the hospital to work on them. It feels almost redundant to work on the designs that he wishes he could let Jamie see and comment on, while watching her struggle in bed with the uncomfortable bandage and pain in her head. It also aches to think about what Blaine had previously said about there being a chance if they had to take care of her longer.

The longer he thinks about it, the more frustrated he becomes.

_It's so easy to say_, he thinks, while coloring in the thin strands of fabric on a coat, _but when it gets down and dirty, that's where things will fall apart._

He and Blaine haven't spoken much in the last two days. The scan results aren't out yet and Jamie gets all fidgety with having been confined to the bed, so Blaine spends his time trying to distract her with activities. Sometimes, when she has to go to another room for a check-up or scan, she gets riled up all over again, and Blaine and the nurses have to try to calm her down. Kurt wants to help, but he finds himself withdrawing from it all.

He isn't quite sure why. Santana came by and he was almost afraid she might start yanking his deepest insecurities out of him with that horrifically accurate Mexican third eye of hers, but thankfully, she didn't.

Although she did start to speak very loudly about how certain handlers weren't very adept at managing the LAC participants, which was very unhelpful of course.

"You do remember how we had a hard time trying to get Howard Bamboo to kick his addiction to channel surfing because his handler couldn't care less about even understanding what autism meant and left him jabbing away at the remote control?" Santana had said. "Oh, no, I think the worst was when a handler thinks he or she knows _too_ much; remember that woman Cassie July and her strange regimentation of shaming and complimenting people in cycles? It was fucking weird and mental."

Kurt had stopped coloring immediately to look up in incredulity.

"Yeah, she justified it by saying that it balanced their mental well-being out," continued Santana, now in a sagely voice. "We have such well-trained handlers."

Blaine didn't really react; he merely continued to engage Jamie in a book, while Santana rattled off more queer incidents with handlers that made Kurt's hair stand on end. And he hadn't even met Shelby Corcoran yet.

"You know," says Blaine, towards the end of the third day of Jamie's hospitalization, "I read through her file before."

"She's a musical theater person, isn't she?" says Kurt, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to unpick stitches on a dress.

"Huh? No, not Shelby, I meant Jamie."

Kurt looks up from his work. "First of all, I'm pretty sure that's illegal. Second of all, it's probably even more illegal to share it with me. And lastly, why are you only waiting till now to tell me?"

Blaine doesn't quite answer the question; instead, he says, "She and her mother were abandoned by her father because of who she is, and her mother couldn't take care of her anymore."

"Because of who she is," repeats Kurt, then he sighs. "Not a reason they'd record down anywhere, but always the fundamental reason."

Blaine's shoulders sag. "Yeah."

Kurt's hands freeze. Finally, he puts aside his work and makes his way to where Blaine is seated. He lets Blaine tilt his head to lean against his side while he puts a hand gently against Blaine's back.

"Then there are those parents who love their kids so much, they're so scared to let go of them," says Blaine, quietly. "They hold onto them so tightly that they don't even have space to grow up. Every time Sam Evans' mom comes to pick him up, she fusses all over him, right from the tufts of his hair down to his shoelaces. It's like she still treats him as if he's half his age even though he's already overage for a football league team."

He sighs and rubs his nose ruefully. "I'm doing it again. Can you please whack me when I say all these things?"

Kurt bends over to kiss Blaine's head. "It's not your fault."

"Everyone's different," mumbles Blaine. "That's what I keep saying. I oughta think what I preach."

"That's some ridiculous logic."

"I _am_ ridiculous."

"No, you're just tired. Just rest."

"Kurt..."

"Shh," says Kurt, and he gently guides Blaine from his seat to the window area to sit. Blaine mumbles a bit more, then his head lolls to the side and he falls asleep almost immediately, while Kurt takes over his place next to Jamie.

He thinks of what Blaine has said, then about his own father and the way he would give him space to do his own things, even if Burt Hummel had no real interest in the tea parties and bejeweled craft boxes that his son was obsessed with. Yet, his father would have his back every single time push came to shove. He would be the hawk all flared up to protect his son from the harsh, spiteful words of others, even at the expense of his heart condition.

Parenting sure wasn't any easy formula, and in Kurt's opinion, Burt Hummel had done it on his own to perfection.

An hour or so later, there comes a knock on the hospital door which startles Kurt; he relaxes a little when Marley pops her head in tentatively. "Is it okay if I come in?"

"Please do," says Kurt, but gestures quietly to a sleeping Blaine and Jamie.

"How is she?" Marley asks, a tender smile crossing her face as she approaches Jamie.

"Worn out," says Kurt. "They've been shuttling her back and forth rooms for scans and stuff – she sure doesn't like it all."

"Poor girl," says Marley. "And poor you guys. It must be tough for you, having to look after her at home too."

Kurt smiles. "You have to look after so many kids as your job. That must be tough too."

"I enjoy it," says Marley, sincerely. "These kids are special in their own ways and they have so much to offer the world, if only the world would open their hearts a little bit more."

"You guys really uphold the buzzword of 'special needs'." Kurt pauses. "Have you seen who Miss Shelby Corcoran is?"

Marley nods. "She came by the other day and Sue attended to her with all kinds of excuses. Can't let Miss Corcoran think we ill-treat the children here or something."

Kurt feels a pang of ache in his heart. And here he was, fearing that Miss Corcoran would ill-treat Jamie.

Marley's eyes crinkle. "I have something to show you. Maybe you'd believe in our 'special' mantra after that."

She pulls out a piece of drawing block from her bag and hands it over to Kurt. "Open it," she says, eagerly.

"I thought you're a Math teacher?" Kurt asks, confused.

"Yeah, but we have regular breaks for the kids to take a breather and do relaxing activities before they carry onto our next task. I'm sure you know Jamie's very fond of drawing." Marley clasps her hands together. "Oh come on, open it!"

Kurt warily unrolls the drawing block, only to find a color pencil drawing of three figures. They're pretty much drawn in the style of any normal six-year-old, but the coloring is finely done. But what is most striking is that the picture is of a little girl holding the hands of two men. Above the three figures, Jamie's scraggly writing reads,

'I LOVE CURT AND BLANE'

"I wanted to correct her spelling, but she wouldn't let me," says Marley. "But I figured it's one of those things whereby you let them have the space to spell phonetically and eventually, they'd work it out and – Kurt?"

She stops short. "Kurt, are you okay?"

Kurt can't help crying. He's exhausted, confused, annoyed and hurt all at once, and now he's just completely overwhelmed with emotions looking at Jamie's drawing.

"Kurt!" Marley stands up immediately, flustered.

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" Kurt waves his hands about, half-hiccupping as he tries to explain, "It's okay! N-no alarm. I'm –" He takes one more look at the drawing, where Blaine has on a polka-dotted bowtie, he is wearing one of the pants that is in his collection plans, and Jamie is wearing the green dress that he designed. "Oh my God."

He whacks his head down a little too hard; Jamie wakes up from the vibrations and begins to shift about.

"Jamie!" Marley exclaims.

"Ahhhhiiiiiii!" Jamie thumps her fists against the blanket.

"Kurt? Marley?" Blaine is starting to stir from the commotion. "What's wrong? Is she okay?"

"Kurt's hyperventilating!" says Marley, frightened. "I don't know what to do!"

Kurt takes deep breaths; he can't really hear anymore, not until Blaine's arms wrap around him and he lets the warmth of Blaine's embrace seep into his bones, before his breathing becomes more regular. Very soon, he realizes that Marley has left, and Blaine is whispering soothing words into his ear.

"I'm pretty sure," says Kurt, once he has calmed down. "I wasn't the one who was hyperventilating."

Blaine laughs against Kurt's ear. "Feeling better? You scared me to death, I thought something happened to Jamie–"

Before Kurt can respond, Blaine's laughter stops abruptly.

"Did you only just notice it?" whispers Kurt, looking back down at the drawing.

"Bababbbpffffttt..." Jamie blows on her bottom lip as both of them look at her.

Blaine gently takes the drawing from Kurt and lays it out in front of Jamie. He carefully wipes away the saliva bubbles on her lip with a tissue, then holds out his hand. Jamie takes it automatically; a smile spreads across her face as Blaine guides her fingers to trace the figures in the drawing.

"Who did you draw, Jamie?" Blaine asks, gently.

"Me!" Jamie triumphantly jabs at the girl in the middle. Then she points to the figure on her right. "Blaiiiiine."

Blaine smiles and presses a kiss to her head tenderly.

"Ow!"

Kurt immediately flinches and Blaine instinctively leans back, startled. Thankfully, Jamie doesn't seem to think much of it, though Blaine murmurs, "Sorry, Jamie. I forgot."

Jamie's fingers move over to the figure on the left. Then she looks straight at Kurt. "Kurt."

Kurt can feel his lips trembling.

_Who would need me for me?_

Blaine wraps his arms around Jamie as he sings softly, while Jamie leans against him as she traces the drawing one more time.

_Need me for me alone  
The world was my oyster  
But where was the pearl?_

Kurt moves over to sit on the other side of the bed. Blaine's smile fades and his eyebrows furrow.

"Is it too late?" Kurt murmurs.

"Too late for what?" asks Blaine, his voice strained.

"We could fall apart," says Kurt, reaching out to point at the smiles on their faces one by one. "We might never look like that again."

Blaine looks pained now. "I'm not asking – pretend I never said anything. We can just go back to what we – what we used to have."

"But it isn't going to be the same anymore. It will never be."

Blaine remains silent.

"We mightn't even talk anymore," says Kurt, unable to stop the tears rolling down his cheeks once more. "We mightn't even think of each other anymore. Every ounce of energy we'd have would be lost."

Now Blaine looks confused. "I don't –"

"But that's what every parent would do for their child, won't they?" Kurt whispers. "Or at least what every parent _should_ do for their child. Whether or not the child has special needs, they would do anything for her. They would do anything to make sure she grows up in a place where she feels loved, accepted and free."

He looks back at Blaine, whose eyes are now shining.

"It's what you would want to do," Kurt continues, "because you want to give her the love you never had. And it's what – what I would want to do because I _know_ that love that I had made me the person I am today."

"You don't have to give up anything, Kurt," says Blaine, reaching out to cup Kurt's cheek.

Kurt can't help but roll his eyes, even as the tears are falling, fast and furious. "I'm not six, Blaine. That's not a promise you can keep. We don't, and can't even have vows to bind us."

"No," admits Blaine. "I can't promise a lot of things, Kurt. In fact, I break so many of them. I promised that I'd never make you feel any less than who you were, and yet, I hurt you with all the assumptions I made about how you could handle Jamie. I promised that I could take care of Jamie on my own so as not to trouble you, and yet, I dragged you into a whole big mess that nearly pulled us apart."

"And you promised that it'll be all over in these few weeks," says Kurt, breaking into a teary smile. "That's broken too."

Blaine looks at him wonderingly. "Really, Kurt?" he whispers. "Really?"

"I'm not trusting a woman who comes all the way to Lima, Ohio trying to spend her time babysitting Jamie while she has personal issues," says Kurt, wrinkling his nose, but he is interrupted by Blaine leaning over to kiss him.

"I want to go home," Jamie announces loudly. "I want to go home with Kurt and Blaine."

Kurt chokes back a laugh. "I don't think any of your prep work really worked."

When he sees Blaine half-smirking, he gasps theatrically. "Blaine Anderson, did you _not_ want it to work?!"

"Well... let's just say the future of my crystal ball said that both Jamie and I would be seated in the front row at your collection's show, cheering you on," says Blaine, smiling.

"Always assuming," says Kurt. "I didn't even say I'd invite you. In fact, you might want to bargain your way through bedroom invitations first."

Blaine laughs through his tears; Kurt looks back down at the painting again and can't help thinking that those designs would appear in reality very soon, on the runway, on the awkward frames of young children – and yet none of those would tell the stories he wanted to tell as well as what Jamie had drawn.

"Then at least, I'll keep one promise, which is to make sure that this remains on your face as much as possible," says Blaine, gesturing to the smile on cartoon-Kurt's face. "Otherwise, you'll never –"

"_Never fully dressed without a smile!_" Jamie sings loudly.

Both of them stare at her.

_Who'd dream I would find it_

_In one little girl?_

Kurt rests his chin on top of Jamie's head as he sings quietly. Blaine chimes in,

_Yes, something was missing_

_But dreams do come true_

They lean in together with Jamie, who is still clutching onto the drawing.

_That something is no one... but you._

* * *

A/N: Read on for the Epilogue!


	10. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

_Two years later_

"Oh, it smells like spring in here!"

"Well, yeah, it is spring."

Tina nudges Kurt with her elbow. "Come _on_. You know what I mean. Spring in Lima never has the same kind of feeling like it's _supposed_ to have. You know, like _life_, and _energy_, and _rejuvenation_! I feel ten years younger in this place!"

Kurt looks at the colored walls of the Lima Autism Center. "I see a wider palette of colors every day. I'm immune to this form of spring."

"So what is your kind of spring?" asks Tina, hooking her arm through Kurt's as they lean against Kurt's car.

"I was never a spring kind of person, to be honest," says Kurt. "More of fall. Those colors are beyond beautiful, they're _exquisite_."

"Pish-posh," says Tina, lifting her nose in the air.

"Oh, shut up," says Kurt, good-naturedly.

"This place doesn't need to be exquisite," says Tina, earnestly. "It's just vibrant, joyful and most of all, sincere."

"Really? That's not what you said like, four years ago."

"Well, sometimes you only realize it after."

"So, you wanna come back and work here?"

Tina laughs. "As much as this place is the starting point for every good thing that has happened so far, I am really more than happy to just continue with that good streak."

Kurt pats Tina's hand. "Things have been that good to you?"

"You know, the usual stuff with Artie happens," says Tina, with a shrug. "But it doesn't matter. Artie makes me happy, he makes me proud."

"I'm happy for you too," says Kurt, smiling. "What with Artie getting into his dream Masters course for film direction and you debuting a role in 'Chicago' for the L.A. Grande..."

"And I get to teach little kids musical theater on the side," adds Tina, beaming. "That's like the cherry on top."

"I was going to ask you if it was all worth it for you, but I don't think I have to ask anymore."

"You never had to ask," says Tina. "I want to ask you that question too, but..."

Kurt looks intently at Tina. "But?"

Tina laughs. "I'll just use my keen powers of observation instead. Some things just can't be put into words."

Before Kurt can really contemplate what Tina means, the bell rings, and both of them watch as the participants of the LAC stream out to meet their family and friends. Kurt cranes his neck a bit, then breaks into a smile as he spots two familiar people.

"Kurt! Kurt!" squeals one of them, who bounds towards him. Kurt takes a few steps forward, then reaches out to swing Jamie up and into his arms.

"Oh boy, young lady, you're getting heavier! How's your day, Jamie?" he asks with a grin.

"Good!" Jamie wraps her arms around him tightly. Kurt has to set her down because there's no way he can carry her this way any longer.

"Jamie," says Tina, gently touching Jamie's shoulder. "Eyes on me."

Jamie looks up, then shouts, "Auntie Tina!"

"Clever girl! Look what Auntie Tina got for you..."

While Tina fishes into her bag for some sweets, Kurt re-focuses on Blaine, who is saying goodbye to all the little kids and chatting with their parents. Once the crowd clears, Blaine waves one last goodbye and turns towards Kurt to beam brightly.

"Helloo, Anderson," says Tina, slyly. "Did you actually grow, or did you roll up those leg sleeves a little too high today?"

"I've been standing on tiptoes everyday just so I will continue to maintain a considerable height advantage over you to salvage my ego," replies Blaine, smoothly. "Did you have a rough flight?"

"Nah, I'm good," says Tina. "Felt a little weird leaving Artie behind even just for a week, but I really needed to come back to see my parents and he's got a project to work on. Thankfully, one of my good pals there was a former volunteer with special needs and he has pretty much gotten the hang of managing Artie too." She nods, even though reluctance is written all over her face. "So I think he's in good hands."

Blaine leans over to kiss Kurt's cheek and ruffle Jamie's hair. He does it really gently, but Jamie goes, "Ow!"

"Oh dear!" Tina's eyes widen. "It still hurts? I thought you said the doctor long assured that she was fine!"

Kurt rolls his eyes. "I think both Blaine's and my drama vibes have combined forces to affect her. Seriously. The doctor even scrutinized right down to the nerves. There wasn't any concussion, it's just that she's really sensitive after the hard knock so she keeps thinking that the area hurts or something."

He bends over to press a light kiss against Jamie's head, eliciting the "Ow!" once more.

Tina laughs. "Yup, those five minutes of observation are enough to tell me everything, Kurt."

"You knew that Jamie was going to get her senses all confused?" Blaine arches his eyebrows.

"No, Miss Cohen-Chang here has even greater powers of being able to probe into one's inner psyche," says Kurt, holding Jamie tightly against him. "Bring on those psychoanalytic skills of yours, my friend."

Blaine leans closer as well.

Tina puts her hands on her hip. "It really isn't difficult when it boils down to the fact that when you love, you love deeply."

"Who knew?" murmurs Blaine, and Kurt elbows him. "Oof! Okay cut the cheese, Tina, before my ribs get broken."

"I'm being serious!" Tina folds her arms. Kurt and Blaine immediately drop their smiles and stand straight, earning a sigh from Tina. "Look, Kurt, for example, the things you would do to protect your dad when people in the town found out you were gay."

Now, Kurt really doesn't feel like smiling anymore.

"The hours that you put into honing your craft in theater so that you would get the part that wouldn't have traditionally landed in your lap," Tina continues, "The criticisms you have had to endure just to push out your own ideas for a fashion collection, which by the way, was so fabulous that you landed yourself deal after deal, although some credit has to be given to the little genius here." She gestures to Jamie. "And the people you would try to even _like_ and _learn_ to be with, because of the people you love." She gestures next to Blaine. "For all that you put in, Kurt, it's all because you love so much and so deeply. So, of course, it's worth it."

"Well, firstly, I didn't continue with theater. Secondly, Sugar managed to get her collection out despite the haters and is getting TV spots, mind you, she's on her way to being a highly inappropriate-speaking but fabulous national icon," says Kurt, pointedly. "I would also like to add that while I'm within reach of changing my company's name to feature mine, I would like you not to jinx it by placing me on a pedestal too soon. Also, I didn't budge when Blaine wanted Jamie to call us 'Papa' and 'Daddy'." He nods firmly. "I figured she was a mature enough lady and we can have mature conversations. That's just _my_ way of doing things."

Blaine makes a loud lamenting sound in response.

When Tina glares at Kurt in mock annoyance, he sighs. "That's all romantic and happy, Tina," he says, and he can't resist elbowing Blaine again because he can literally feel Blaine's smile radiating from the side. "But behind the 'it's all worth it', all of us know that there are a lot of strings tied tautly between people, across things and situations, and just one tweak could break everything."

Jamie mutters something unintelligible, then snuggles harder against Kurt, who can't help smiling.

"That's like for _every_ single situation, Kurt," says Tina. "Like, things could go screwy when all you wanna do is say, crack an egg for breakfast. Things like that just happen."

Blaine suddenly snorts and Kurt can't help grinning. Tina stares at them perplexedly; Kurt reaches out with his free arm to pull Blaine closer to him. Jamie decides that since no one is paying any attention to her, that she tugs hard at Kurt. He bends down again, and Jamie plants a big wet kiss on his nose, startling him pleasantly.

"Have your romantic cake and eat it, Kurt," says Tina, with a wink.

Kurt looks at Blaine, who matches his beam, and nods. "I will."

**FINE.**

* * *

A/N: Thank you all for wading through this fic! It hasn't been perfect because real life kept eating into my time and consciousness, so the train of thought was broken every now and then even though the outline was already done. Feel free to comment and share with me what you think of my fic! (:

Also, if you're interested to know more about Tina, Artie, Santana and Mike, or to get a glimpse of other characters in the 'verse who don't really appear here, e.g. Rachel, Finn, Brittany, Sam, do stop by my other fic 'Singin' In The Rain'. It also features the very first moment Kurt and Blaine met, and has a greater insight into their friendships with Tina.


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